


there's a band of gold

by gilligankane



Series: you can tell everybody this is your song [21]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: 80's Music, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-23 01:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 34,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: Nicole narrows her eyes and studies Wynonna for a minute. “Do you want to get married?”Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Who’re you? Doc? God, can’t I get a break from this?”“Well,” Nicole starts. “I’m just asking because-”“Do you want to get married?” Wynonna fires back. She crosses her arms over her chest.Nicole swallows heavily, her mouth going dry. “Oh. Well.”





	1. said i'd never fall again

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME TO THE 3-PART SPECIAL EDITION, the search is over (you were with me all along). This single, there’s a band of gold, is part 1 of a 3-part series that follows Waverly and Nicole over a huge nine-month period of their lives. 
> 
> ‘M’ rating applies for Side B. 
> 
> As always, thanks to Smurf for never giving up on me, for supporting me running with this special edition idea, and just, like being my best friend.
> 
> \---
> 
> Singles Collection Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/gilligankane/playlist/65OqGkvybYGx4JwpZQfyAU

**“When You Love a Woman” Journey, 1996  
** _ When you love a woman, you see your world inside her eyes. When you love a woman, you know she’s standin’ by your side. A joy that lasts forever; There’s a band of gold that shines. _

Nicole squints against the early October morning sun and pushes her Ray-Ban 2140 Wayfarers back up her nose. There’s a chill in the air, this early in the fall, that’ll disappear before noon and leave her in her white undershirt and her flannel in the trunk of her car. She stands in front of The Patch’s front door and looks up and down Main Street.

It’s Saturday morning and everything feels so  _ still _ . 

The drugstore is turning around their ‘Closed’ sign. Shorty’s is quiet, the neon lights dimmed. The Post Office is closed and won’t open until 0800. Purgatory Bank and Loan has a car in the parking lot, but it’s only Mr. Hebert, the bank president, getting an early start on the day. 

Purgatory is quiet for now, not quite awake, and Nicole takes it all in, humming a song under her breath.

“ _ He'd tousle my hair and say, ‘Son take a good look around. This is your hometown’ _ .”

Styx licks at her hand and she looks down, smiling at him. She shakes Bruce Springsteen out of her head and knocks on the door to the tune of “Another One Bites The Dust,” looking down at Styx again.

“Sorry I dumped that Styx song for Freddie Mercury,” she tells him.

The door opens quickly, Wynonna poking her head outside and looking up and down the street. “That’s not the theme song,” she hisses.

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Yes, it is.”

“No,” Wynonna says firmly. “It’s ‘And The Cradle Will Rock...’ and we’ve  _ talked _ about this.”

“Waverly picked ‘Another One Bites The Dust’ as the theme song for-”

“Her vote doesn’t count,” Wynonna interrupts.

Nicole frowns. “Then we each voted for our own song.”

“Oh, your vote doesn’t count either,” Wynonna adds.

Nicole’s mouth drops open. “Since when?”

Wynonna shrugs a shoulder. “Since I can’t confirm that you didn’t seduce Waverly into picking your song choice.”

Nicole’s face flushes. “I was  _ ten _ .”

“I’m still not convinced you're not the Wicked Witch of the West.”

Nicole shudders. “I still hate the monkeys,” she mutters. 

Styx whines softly and Wynonna looks down, her eyes widening. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing my nephew?” she accuses. She snatches Styx’s leash out of Nicole’s hand and opens the door wider, letting Styx in ahead of her. “I can’t believe you made him stand out there like that.”

“You made  _ me _ stand out there, too,” Nicole grumbles as she follows Wynonna through the dining room. 

“She’s in a  _ mood _ ,” Valdez mumbles as they pass each other. Valdez has a tray of sugar shakers in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. She smiles at Nicole and puts the coffee mug and tray down to offer her hand out to Styx.

He sniffs excitedly and licks it. Valdez smiles softly and scratches him behind the ears.

“A mood, huh?” Nicole asks. She watches as Wynonna moves behind the counter and pulls two coffee mugs up from the drying rack. She pours two coffees from the pot on the boiler plate and tops her own off with a few sugars. Wynonna nods her head in the direction of the small hallway that leads towards the bathroom and the office and starts that way.

Valdez nods sharply. “Came in this morning muttering something about ‘ _ John Henry Holliday _ ’ and ‘ _ the head he keeps up his ass _ ’.”

“Great,” Nicole sighs. She clicks her tongue and Styx looks at her, sitting on his haunches. “Office,” she commands. He takes off after Wynonna, his nails making soft clicking sounds against the tiled floor. “We’ll be in there if you need anything.”

Valdez waves her off. “I’ll open the door in a few minutes, and Bobo is already prepped in the kitchen. We can survive a few hours without the Heir breathing down our necks. It’s just Junior and the morning crowd.” 

Nicole snorts. “Okay. If Bobo messes up a basket of homefries…”

“I’ll be sure to send them your way,” Valdez promises. She picks her tray and her coffee cup back up, taking a long sip from her mug before she moves through the dining room, dropping fresh sugar containers on each table.

“How’s the academy paperwork coming?” Nicole asks, lingering at the table. 

Valdez leans her hip against the table she’s standing at. “I finished it.”

“That’s great!” Nicole smiles wide. “When are you mailing it in?”

Valdez’s eyes stray to the large clock on the wall. “On my break.”

“And you studied for the RCMP Entrance Exam?”

Valdez nods. “Leslie helped.”

Nicole wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh, did she?”

Valdez rolls her eyes. “She called and quizzed me over the phone. And anyway, they have to accept my application before I can take the RPAB.”

Nicole waves her hand dismissively. “They’ll accept it. I’m sure Nedley is going to call and put in a good word.” She makes a mental note to talk to him about it. “I’m glad you finally decided to give it a try.”

Valdez rearranges a jelly container. “I had some things to take care of, first,” she says. “My last run with the Banditos, getting my car fixed up, setting my mom up in Revelstoke.”

Nicole sighs dreamily as she thinks about Valdez’s 1980 Dodge Mirada CMX. It’s cherry red and Nicole’s heart flips every time she sees it parked out in front of The Patch. 

“But now that everything is squared away,” Valdez continues. “I can submit my application and keep studying for the RPAB.”

“With  _ Leslie _ ,” Nicole sings.

Valdez scoffs and looks away, but there’s a slight flush of color on her cheeks. “Whatever,” she mumbles.

Nicole grins one last time and moves down the hallway, slipping into the open office door. She spots Styx in his bed by the desk. He’s chewing on a bone that looks new, and barely looks up at her when she closes the door behind herself. 

“What did Valdez say?” Wynonna asks through a mouthful of french fries.

Nicole picks up her coffee and takes a long sip. She hadn’t started the coffee pot at home - it’s old and too loud and Waverly was up late last night, working on the presentation she’s making in front of the school board next week, to increase the budget for the history department so they can update their textbooks. She set it up and left one of those Post-It notes on it for Waverly when she finally woke up.

“She said you’re in a mood,” Nicole finally says, putting her mug back down. She pulls the old leather chair in the corner of the room up to the desk, settling into it. 

Wynonna scowls. “I’m gonna fire her.”

“No, you’re not,” Nicole says. “She’s the only waitress you actually like.”

“The rest are unreliable,” Wynonna immediately says. “They can never work!”

Nicole nods, like she always does when Wynonna starts this conversation. “It’s because they have lives.”

Wynonna waves a hand dismissively. “Fine. Fine. I guess that’s fine.” She smiles, though.

Nicole stretches her legs out, frowning at the small discoloration on the knee of her jeans. Waverly must have dropped some bleach on them when she was doing laundry the other day. She sighs and thumbs at it, but it doesn’t go away, just like she knew it wouldn’t. She adjusts her belt a little, and pushes her white shirt down on the side where it’s riding up. She checks the cuffs of her flannel and nods, satisfied. When she looks up, Wynonna is staring at her, one side of her mouth pulled up into a smirk.

“Do you need some time alone?”

Nicole scowls. “Did you need my help with something?”

Wynonna’s eyes flash, and something like seriousness comes over her face. “I have a test in my Human Resource Management class tomorrow night.”

“Is that the class where-”

Wynonna nods sharply. “I hate it.”

“You hate it because it’s not easy.”

“I hate it because it means I have to deal with  _ people _ .”

“Okay, Mrs. Dray,” Nicole mutters.

Wynonna holds a hand to her chest. “I would be  _ honored _ .”

Nicole rolls her eyes and reaches for the textbook on the edge of the desk. “So what’s your test on?”

Wynonna scans the notebook in front of her. “Management and Motivation.”

Nicole snorts.

Wynonna scowls at her. “Don’t laugh.”

Nicole straightens up quickly.  “Okay, okay.” She flips through the textbook, scanning the table of contents until she finds the chapter on “Management and Motivation.” She opens it to the page listed and drags her finger down the list of words defined at the start of the chapter. “Are we starting with definitions?”

“Like always,” Wynonna sighs. “It always trips me up.”

Nicole smiles reassuringly. “That’s why we invented The Game.”

Wynonna nods. “Right. The Game.”

Nicole reaches for the small stack of scrap paper on the side of the desk. It’s  _ Gus’s _ desk, still, but pieces of Wynonna are starting to find their way to the surface. The picture frames on the corner of the desk used to be just a few - one of Curtis and one of Waverly and Wynonna. Now, there’s one of Curtis and Gus, Wynonna and Doc at Bustillos, Wynonna and Nicole in her Bonneville on their first day of senior year, and one of everyone sitting squished into their favorite booth. Nicole has a copy on her desk at the station. 

Wynonna leans back in the squeaky leather chair behind the desk and sips from her coffee, tapping her fingertips against the desk while Nicole writes down the vocabulary words for the chapter on the pieces of scrap paper. She scratches Styx’s head with her other hand. He rolls onto his back and exposes his belly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Nicole shakes her head at him.  

The Game is something she made up when Wynonna started school again. She writes down the vocabulary words on pieces of paper and tosses them into an empty cup or a hat or whatever she has nearby. One by one, Wynonna picks a word out and defines it. Each correct answer gets her a dollar in the ‘Bad Company Concert’ jar; each incorrect answer costs her two quarters. She gets a quarter back for every example she can give for each word.

After the first test, Wynonna barely missed a vocabulary word.

Nicole finishes thumbing through the chapter and starts folding the pieces of paper, dropping them into the wiped-out coffee mug Wynonna just finished drinking from. 

“So you’re in a mood,” she says casually.

“And you’re fishing,” Wynonna says, looking just over Nicole’s shoulder.

Nicole reaches out, the mug in her hand. Wynonna closes her eyes and picks a scrap of paper, handing it to Nicole. Nicole unfolds it.

“Intangible,” she reads.

Wynonna’s forehead knits in concentration, her bottom lip between her front teeth as she thinks. “They’re a type of goal…”

Nicole nods encouragingly. “Goals,” she prompts.

“Like, personal reputation?” Wynonna guesses.

Nicole stares at Wynonna. “Are you sure?”

Wynonna pauses for a second before she nods hesitantly. “Final answer.”

“Mark it down as correct,” Nicole says, smiling.

Wynonna  _ whoops _ and spins in her chair, putting a mark on the board behind her in the ‘Add $1” column.

Nicole pulls another piece of paper out of the mug. “Valency,” she reads.

Wynonna leans back confidently in her chair. “The value of the outcome to the person.”

Nicole checks the book and nods. 

Styx goes back to chewing his bone, bored with them. Nicole can hear the jukebox kick in, and groans at Valdez’s choice - “We Die Young” by Alice in Chains. 

Wynonna shrugs. “She likes grunge.”

Nicole shudders. “It sounds like someone cutting the strings on a guitar.”

Wynonna laughs, sharp and short. “You go tell her that.”

Nicole shakes her head quickly. “Not in a million years.”

Wynonna lifts an eyebrow slowly. “Are you  _ afraid _ of her? You? Big, bad Five-O.”

“No, I’m not,” Nicole says firmly.

Wynonna doesn’t hear her. “Oh my god, you’re scared of her. That’s aces. It really is. She’s  _ harmless _ .” Wynonna frowns. “Well, okay. She’s not  _ harmless _ . I once saw her clothesline some guy in the back of a billiard hall. Somewhere in Manitoba, I think. He called her a-” Wynonna stops herself and shrugs. “It doesn’t matter what he called her. But she said some pretty interesting things about his sister and when he charged her, she sidestepped him and just…  _ pow! _ ”

Nicole jumps a little when Wynonna slams her hand down on the desk. Styx’s head snaps up, his eyes alert. When he realizes no one is barging through the office door, he drops his head down and gets back to his bone. 

“Is that the same summer you fell in love with her?” Nicole asks.

Wynonna throws a wadded up piece of paper at Nicole’s head that she ducks easily. “I wasn’t in  _ love _ with her. In awe, maybe,” Wynonna finishes quietly, her forehead wrinkled in concentration.

Nicole’s eyes widen a little. “And how does Mr. John Henry Holliday feel about that?”

Wynonna scowls. “ _ John Henry _ has his head up his ass.”

“So I’ve heard,” Nicole murmurs. She holds the mug out again. “Pick another.”

Wynonna hands her a slip of paper.

“Intrinsic motivation.”

Wynonna frowns. “Internal…” She sighs. “It’s internal, right?”

Nicole shrugs a shoulder neutrally. “A clue costs you a quarter.”

“That’s a stupid rule,” Wynonna mutters. She throws a hand up in the air. “Whatever. Internal motivators, like finding work interesting or feeling accomplished.” She snorts. “So,  _ you _ .”

Nicole picks out another scrap of paper and reads it so. “Okay, so, extrinsic motivation is…”

“External motivators. Like  _ money _ ,” Wynonna says confidently.

She’s smug, a grin stretched across her face and her arms over her chest. It’s her  _ I can do anything better than you _ face, and it drives Nicole crazy, but there’s something else in her eyes that Nicole recognizes. Something is bothering Wynonna; something is poking at the corner of her brain and keeping her preoccupied. Normally, if Wynonna nailed a vocabulary set like that, she’d demand they stop and she’d tell Nicole she can ace this part of the test. Normally, if Wynonna managed that, she’d lean back in her chair, tuck both hands behind her back, and say something stupid, like “ _ how do you like them apples?” _

Instead, Wynonna is staring at the corkboard on the wall near Nicole, eyes darting between the picture of her and Doc stuffed into the corner and the ‘Goals for 1997’ list that Wynonna and Gus came up with together, to get a jump on things when the new year starts.

The song changes, “We Die Young” drifting into Billy Idol’s “Cradle of Love.”

“Bonus round,” Nicole announces suddenly.

Wynonna’s head snaps up and her eyes widen. “I don’t want a bonus round.”

Nicole nods, ignoring her. She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the black leather wallet Waverly got her for Christmas last year. She pulls out a ten-dollar note and puts on the table between them. “I’ll put this  _ right _ into your ‘Bad Company Concert’ jar if you can name McGregor’s Theories. Or…”

“Or…” Wynonna repeats.

“Or you tell me why you’re in  _ a mood _ .”

Wynonna scowls. “I’m seriously firing Valdez.”

“Sure you are,” Nicole says kindly. “And I’m the Prime Minister.”

Wynonna picks at the corner of the large calendar that takes up most of the desk’s surface. “It’s nothing.”

Nicole shrugs a shoulder and picks up her coffee mug. She takes a long sip and puts it down again. “Okay.”

“I mean it,” Wynonna says.

“I get it,” Nicole says.

“So don’t go and tell Waverly to drag it out of me,” Wynonna continues.

Nicole nods. “I won’t.”

“I mean it,” Wynonna repeats.

Nicole lifts three fingers into the air. “Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t a Scout,” Wynonna mumbles.

“I can still have honor,” Nicole fires back.

Wynonna taps her fingers against the wood desktop and sighs heavily. “God, you’re burning me.”

“I’m not-”

“Fine, I’ll tell if if you just leave me alone about it,” Wynonna interrupts.

Nicole sits back in her seat and stretches her legs out. “Okay.”

Wynonna huffs. “John Henry Holliday,” she growls. “Asked me about…” She swallows. Nicole watches her throat bob. “He asked me about getting married.”

Nicole’s mouth drops open. “He did?” She sits up a little straighter. “He  _ proposed _ ?”

Wynonna’s eyes widen. “What?  _ No _ . He knows I want to ask him, not the other way around,” she says dismissively. “No. He just asked me how I  _ felt _ about it.”

Nicole sags against the back of the chair, blowing a hot stream of air out of her pursed lips.

“Take a red,” Wynonna tells her.

“I just thought-”

“That I was telling you Doc got down on knee and asked me to spend the rest of my life washing his coveralls?” Wynonna snorts. “As if.”

Nicole narrows her eyes and studies Wynonna for a minute. “Do you  _ want _ to get married?”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Who’re you? Doc? God, can’t I get a break from this?”

“Well,” Nicole starts. “I’m just asking because-”

“Do  _ you _ want to get married?” Wynonna fires back. She crosses her arms over her chest.

Nicole swallows heavily, her mouth going dry. “Oh. Well.”

“Well,” Wynonna prompts after a minute of silence. “What’s your beef?”

“We’re not talking about me,” Nicole says defensively. “We’re talking about you.”

“We’re never talking about you,” Wynonna points out. “We weren’t talking about you when Nathan and Mercedes got married. We didn’t talk about you when Chrissy and Perry got hitched.”

“We’re not talking about it now,” Nicole says, her back teeth grinding together.

Wynonna scowls at her for a minute before she reaches an arm out, her fingertips resting on the ten-dollar note in the middle of the desk. “I’ll give you this,” she says. “And double it, if you tell me why you don’t want to get married.”

_ That’s not true _ , Nicole thinks.

She pushes the thought down and scowls back at Wynonna. She snatches the note out from under Wynonna’s hand and shoves it in her front pocket, ignoring the urge to wince at the way it looks in her pocket - misshapen and pointed. 

She listens hard - there’s a new song in the dining room and it sounds like Styx.

Wynonna shakes her head and leans back in her seat again. “That’s what I thought,” she says, smug.

Nicole glares at Wynonna.

“And McGregor’s Theories are Theory X and Theory Y. Theory X is that all people are lazy and must be bribed into working,” Wynonna says confidently. “Theory Y is that people will work harder when they feel respected and appreciated.”

Nicole slams Wynonna’s textbook closed, a rush of irritation running through her. “Why did I get up early and come quiz you if you already knew the answers?” She stands up, the chair scraping the floor noisily.

Wynonna leans forward. “Woah, hold on.”

Nicole ignores her, dropping the textbook onto the desk. 

“Wait a minute,” Wynonna says louder. “Where’re you going?”

“ _ Home _ ,” Nicole practically spits.

Wynonna stands up. “Nicole.”

Nicole ignores her again, pushing the chair back into the corner where it belongs.

“Nicole,” Wynonna tries again.

_ I didn’t come out here at the crack of dawn just to be made fun of _ , she thinks.

“ _ Nicole _ ,” Wynonna says loudly.

Nicole’s head snaps up. “What?” she asks, an edge to her voice.

Wynonna puts her hands up in surrender. “Okay,” she says gently. “You’re upset.”

Nicole looks down at herself and realizes she has both of her hands clenched into fists and her left foot forward in a fighting stance. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, each breath hard and burning through her throat.

“Doc wants to drive off into the sunset in that pink Lincoln,” Wynonna says.

Nicole frowns. “What?”

“He wants to pull a  _ Grease _ and drive away from Purgatory while we sing ‘ _ we’ll always be together _ ’,” Wynonna explains. “Someday, when we’re old. I’m pretty sure he wants us to be one of those couples who die at the same time.”

Nicole feels her body relaxing, her breathing evening out and her hands unclenching, flattening against her jeans. “What?” she asks again. Her shoulders slump and her anger melts into uncertainty.

Wynonna shrugs. “He’s oddly sentimental for a man who wears that much wax in his moustache.”

Nicole shakes her head slowly. “What… what just happened?”

Wynonna smiles crookedly. “I pulled a Curtis.”

“A Curtis,” Nicole repeats dumbly.

“I changed the subject and caught you off-guard and you calmed down,” Wynonna explains. She folds her arms over her chest proudly. “I learned it from Curtis.”

Nicole remembers being eight, kicking milk crates around outside of The Patch and an anger singing through her blood that she thought she’d never let go of. 

“ _ I like Bing Crosby _ ,” Curtis had said.

Nicole had been so confused, she forgot to be mad at her dad, if only for a second.

“Do you want to tell me what you’re so upset about?” Wynonna asks gently, sitting down in her chair again.

Nicole hooks her foot around the leg of the chair she pushed into the corner and pulls it closer to the desk, slumping into it. “I don’t know.”

Styx transitions into Pearl Jam’s “Better Man.”

“ _ Waitin', watchin' the clock, it's four o'clock, it's got to stop. Tell him, take no more, she practices her speech as he opens the door, she rolls over. Pretends to sleep as he looks her over _ .”

Wynonna stares at her for a moment, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Okay.”

Nicole closes her eyes for a second, singing the chorus of “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” in her head twice before she opens them again. “Doc asked if you wanted to get married.”

Wynonna snorts. “Can you believe that?”

Nicole shrugs a shoulder. “It makes sense. You guys have been together for-”

“Eighteen years,” Wynonna supplies. “I only know that because Doc told me,” she adds quickly.

“I didn’t think you were keeping track,” Nicole mutters. Styx pads over and rests his head on her knee, looking up at her with big, brown eyes. She smiles softly and drops a hand to the top of his head, scratching behind his ears. “So, when’s the wedding?”

Wynonna shrugs. “I don’t know if there’ll ever be one.”

Nicole leans forward a little. Styx huffs, annoyed that she’s moving, and he trots back to his bed, laying down and mouthing his bone again. “You don’t?”

Wynonna laughs. “I’m not the marrying kind.” She pauses for a second. “At least, I don’t think I want to be.”

Nicole frowns. “Aren’t you, like, already practically married?”

Wynonna snaps her fingers. “That’s exactly what I told Doc!”

“But he wants more?”

Wynonna shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t want more.”

Nicole knows that. She knows Doc would follow -  _ has followed  _ \- Wynonna to the ends of the earth and back again, and would be as content to hold her hand as he would be to marry her. 

Wynonna sighs and picks at the corner of the desk calendar again. “Some girls dream about their weddings. The long dresses they got from their moms and the big ceremony with a priest who is probably hungover from too much of that wine they drink.” Wynonna rolls her eyes. “And a big party with _champagne_ _towers_.”

Nicole snorts. “You don’t want champagne towers?”

“No one would be able to stack them without my superior math skills.”

Nicole picks up her coffee mug and tips it in Wynonna’s direction.

Wynonna smirks for a minute before it fades from her face. “I don’t want the pony show,” she admits. “I don’t want to go dress shopping in the city and make  _ totally awesome _ centerpieces and drink  _ totally awesome _ wines and try  _ totally awesome _ cakes.”

“You can do a civil ceremony,” Nicole points out. 

Wynonna huffs, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. “I don’t want to be tied down,” she admits. 

Nicole leans forward, her elbows digging into her knees. “You think Doc is going to tie you down.”

“Of course not,” Wynonna says quickly. She scoffs. “I’d like to see him try.” She shrugs a shoulder and looks at Styx, one corner of her mouth quirking upright. “Some girls dream about their wedding day,” she repeats again.

“And you dream about a Bad Company concert,” Nicole finishes.

“You always understood me,” Wynonna says, grinning. “Not everyone does.”

Nicole wrinkles her nose. “You’re not difficult to figure out.”

Wynonna snorts. “Tell that to everyone else.”

Nicole picks up the song drifting through the bottom of the door. Take That’s “Back For Good” is playing. Nicole rolls her eyes. They really need to stop letting Bobo pick songs he wants to hear.

“I just…” Wynonna starts, then stops. She sighs loudly again, pushing her hair back. “Getting married feels like tying a rope around my ankle and declaring that Doc is  _ mine _ , when he always has been anyway. I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me what I’ve known since I was ten.” 

Nicole nods slowly. “I totally get it.”

“Well, that’s why you don’t want to get married, isn’t it?” Wynonna asks. “So you’re not tied down?”

“No, that’s not-” Nicole cuts herself off, a burst of anger blooming in her chest. She takes a calm, measured breath. “People need to lay off,” she mutters.

“People like…” she prompts.

“Like Sharon at the Mayor’s Office,” Nicole says, rolling her eyes. She purses her lips and makes her voice into a high squeak. “ _ Well, Officer Haught. I think it’s about time you made an honest woman out of that Earp girl, isn’t it? _ ”

Wynonna laughs, clapping her hand down over her mouth when Nicole glares at her. 

“And Junior, too,” Nicole continues. She lowers her voice. “ _ Don’t you think you girls should be married by now?” _ She throws her hands up in the air. “Mr. Hebert at the bank!” She stands up and her chair move noisily again. Styx doesn’t even look up this time.

Wynonna leans back in her chair, watching Nicole pace back and forth.

“Stan the Pretzel Man, Mercedes’s dad,” Nicole lists, counting people on her finger. She stomps back and forth across the room methodically - one, two, three, four, turn sharply, and back again. “ _ Shorty _ .” She stamps her foot on the floor. “Everytime we go to the grocery store, Martha at the counter asks what I’m waiting for. I go to the post office and Jillian, behind the counter, asks if I’m mailing out wedding invitations. But I’m only mailing out our  _ Rolling Stone  _ subscription fee. Ms. Ruthie asked if she was ever going to have to make a new entry into Purgatory’s Historical Society ‘Births, Deaths, and Weddings’ registry book.” Nicole slams her hands down on the desk, her fingers curling around the edge. “Even my mom,  _ my mom _ , asked me when I was finally going to settle down.”

“Is that why you got so angry?” Wynonna asks, looking pointedly at Nicole’s hand, the knuckles turning white.

Nicole sighs and lets go, flexing her hand. She runs it through her hair and slumps down into her chair. “Sorry,” she mutters.

Wynonna shrugs a shoulder.

“I just don’t understand why  _ my mom _ , of all people, doesn’t get it,” Nicole growls. “She’s  _ divorced _ .”

Wynonna narrows her eyes. “So?”

“So?” Nicole repeats, her voice rising high as her head snaps up, glaring at Wynonna. “ _ So _ ?”

Wynonna shrugs again. “Joan isn’t divorced because she fell out of love,” she points out. “She’s divorced because your dad is wacked and decided to ditch your family to escape to…  _ Maine _ .”

Nicole points her finger at Wynonna. “Exactly.”

Wynonna frowns. “Exactly what?”

“Exactly  _ that _ ,” Nicole repeats. “My dad  _ left _ . He was with my mom for five years before they got married. And then they had Nathan, like, right away. My dad was with my mom for  _ fifteen _ years, and he just got up one morning and changed his mind.” 

She stomps her foot, feeling eight again, and unsure of why her dad won’t just come home. 

“He changed his mind, Wynonna. He had a family and a job and a mortgage, and he woke up one day and decided it wasn’t enough.” Her throat burns as she opens her mouth again. “ _ We _ weren’t good enough.  _ I _ wasn’t good enough.”

“Nicole-”

“They vowed to stay together for forever,” Nicole interrupts. “That’s what they said, in front of their friends and their family. ‘ _ Till death do we part _ ’,” she recites. “Except he  _ really _ meant ‘ _ Till Susan do we part, _ ’ because he sure didn’t die.” Nicole shakes her head and pushes her hands into her pocket. “Oh, no no no. He met  _ Susan _ on a business trip to Maine, and then spent seven months volunteering for every international business trip so that he could see her and promise to marry her and give her tiny little Susan-babies and-”

“So he didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to leave,” Wynonna interrupts. “He spent seven months deciding.”

“ _ Wynonna _ ,” Nicole hisses.

“Details are important, Five-O,” Wynonna reminds her. “I’m surprised you’re being so fluid with them.”

“You know what?” Nicole starts. “I’m-”

“Oh, hold on a second,” Wynonna says. She narrows her eyes, staring at Nicole for a long minute.

The song changes again. 

“ _ Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken. And the violence caused such silence. Who are we mistaking? _ ”

Nicole scowls. The Cranberries. 

Wynonna sits up a little straighter and steeples her hands together on the desk in front of her. 

_ She looks like Nedley _ , is Nicole’s first thought. 

Nicole pulls back a little, her whole body on fire. She can feel the back of her neck burning, and she knows her hands are clenched again. She exhales slowly and makes an effort to flatten her hands against her jeans. They feel slick with sweat, damp through the denim of her jeans. 

“Are you worried Waverly is going to change her mind?” Wynonna asks slowly. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Or, are you worried Waverly is going to meet her own Susan while she’s on some history teacher expedition?” She pauses. “Do they have that kind of thing?” She waves a hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. Are you worried Waverly is going to find someone else who is as dramatic as you?”

Nicole sputters. “What  _ is _ this? 20 questions?”

Wynonna shakes her head calmly. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so worried about Waverly changing her mind.”

‘I’m-”

“Or,” Wynonna interrupts again. “Are you worried that  _ you’re _ the one who is going to change her mind.”

Nicole’s mouth drops open. “I’ve been in love with Waverly for twelve years,” she says, eyes wide in disbelief. “You think I’m going to wake up one day and just…  _ not _ be in love with her?”

Wynonna shakes her head. “I don’t think that. You do.”

“I don’t think-” She cuts herself off, frowning.

Wynonna snaps her fingers. “That’s it, right there.” She looks down at Styx and grins. “See that, boy? That lightbulb above your mom’s head? She’s not a hoser after all.”

Nicole slumps into her chair, legs stretched out in front of her haphazardly. “ _ I’m _ never going to not be in love with her,” she says quietly.

Wynonna groans and rolls her eyes. “Oh my god. We  _ know _ . I helped you win her over, didn’t I? Do you not want to get married?”

“I do!” Nicole says quickly. “I’m just…” She drops her head into her hands and closes her eyes, fighting against the tears she can feel building. “I’m afraid,” she admits. She looks up. “I’m afraid,” she repeats.

Wynonna scoffs. “You’re not afraid of anything.”

“I’m afraid of a lot of things,” Nicole corrects.

“Like what?”

“Like Survivor breaking up again, especially because they  _ just _ got back together. And Champ joining the police force. And dropping Hayley when Mercedes hands her off to me,” Nicole lists.

“You’re being a hoser,” Wynonna says. She gets up from her chair and comes around the desk.

“Those are all legitimate fears,” Nicole points out.

“They’re not the reason you’re not asking my sister to marry you.”

Nicole squints up at Wynonna. “Are you Wynonna, the sister, or Wynonna, the best friend?”

Wynonna shrugs. “This is one of those times when they’re the same person.”

Nicole frowns. “Are you sure? Because Wynonna, the sister, punched me in the mouth once.”

Wynonna waves a hand dismissively. “One time.”

“You’ve actually hit me-”

“So what’s the problem?” Wynonna asks loudly, interrupting Nicole and perching on the edge of the desk. Her foot comes up and rests next to Nicole’s hand on the arm of the chair. 

Nicole takes a deep breath, her chest tightening painfully. “People always leave,” she whispers. “They  _ always _ do.”

Wynonna shakes her head softly. “No, they don’t.”

Nicole looks up at Wynonna and scoffs, the noise dry as it pushes through her nose. “They don’t?” She doesn’t wait for Wynonna to answer her. “Yes, they do.”

_ “ _ Like when?” Wynonna challenges.

“Waverly has a list,” Nicole says.

“Waverly has a list,” Wynonna mocks.

Nicole scowls. “Well, for one.  _ You _ did. Multiple times.”

“I came back,” Wynonna says defensively.

“You’re going to leave again,” Nicole accuses. “It’s just… who you are.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “So what?”

“So you  _ leave _ .”

“I come  _ back _ ,” Wynonna says, her voice rising. “God help me, every time I try to leave this place, something pulls back here.”

“Usually me,” Nicole mutters. “Hauling whatever parts of your bike there are left.”

Wynonna looks up and crosses herself. “Rest in pieces, Bernado.”

Nicole rolls her eyes, remembering that the only piece of Bernado, a 1975 Honda CB550F, that crossed back into Purgatory was the front wheel. The rest of it had been scattered along the Trans-Canada Highway in Marathon, Ontario. 

“That’s not the point, Wynonna.”

Wynonna sighs. “So what’s the point.”

“People  _ leave _ .”

“I come back.”

“Other people,” Nicole says, feeling unsteady even though she’s sitting down. “Even Waverly left me.”

“Doesn’t count. She went away to college and then came back and took a job as the high school history teacher.” Wynonna wrinkles her nose. “You guys are a gross rom-com waiting to happen.”

Nicole swallows heavily. “Curtis.”

Wynonna narrows her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s not fair.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.”

“He didn’t have a choice.”

“He still left,” Nicole insists.

Wynonna is quiet for a minute, her hands flexing on the edge of the desk. “He wouldn’t have left if he had a choice.”

Nicole sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I know.”

“I come back,” Wynonna repeats after a minute. “Waverly came back. And…” She pushes off the desk, looming high above Nicole. She crouches down, her knees on the floor, and her hands on Nicole’s thighs. “You have people now, you know. More than just me and more than just Waverly.”

Nicole sighs and drops her head. Wynonna’s hands squeeze her thighs until she looks up.

“You have Gus. She likes you better than she likes me,” Wynonna says. “And Doc. I can’t shake him. He’s like a leech. And Nathan is back. He’s  _ really _ back. And he’s not going anywhere.” Wynonna smiles softly and reaches up, tucking a loose strand of Nicole’s hair behind her ear. “You have Mercedes. That bitch  _ loves _ you. And Hayley? She must have a thing for gingers, because even Jeremy can’t get her to settle down as well as you can.”

Nicole rolls her eyes.

Wynonna’s hand goes to her jaw, fingers against Nicole’s chin, pressing until Nicole looks at Wynonna. “You have Dolls and Jeremy. Even Boobs McGee.”

Nicole opens her mouth.

“I know, I know,” Wynonna says quickly. “ _ Rosita _ . Chrissy and Perry.  _ Nedley _ .” She scoffs. “Nedley is never going anywhere without you. He loves you more than he loves Chrissy.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Nicole protests.

“Zombie” fades out - “ _ oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh ei ei oh _ .”

There’s a quiet lull as the next song loads. Nicole’s ears try to pick it up, but she doesn’t recognize it at first.

“ _ In my life, I see where I've been. I said that I'd never fall again within myself. I was wrong. My searchin' ain't over...over, I know that. _ ”

_ Steve Perry _ , she thinks.  _ Journey _ . 

“You’re a close second,” Wynonna says. “And Linda and Cub and…” She trails off. “Somehow, you snuck Waverly’s ‘Nicest Person in Purgatory’ sash right out from under her.” She shifts a little and Nicole frowns. “The point is, Nicole Haught, your dad was a real dickweed. But when he took off? He just left more room for people to love you.”

Nicole’s eyes burn.

“ _ When you love a woman, you see your world inside her eyes. _ ”

“So what’re you waiting for?” Wynonna continues.

_ Nothing _ , Nicole thinks.  _ I can’t spend my whole life waiting for the sky to fall. _

She leans in a little, the knot in her chest loosening, and her eyelids fluttering.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Wynonna whispers.

Nicole laughs, the sound quickly shifting into more a sob. “You wish,” she manages.

“It’s just that you were leaning in, and your eyes were closing, and Journey is playing on the jukebox,” Wynonna says. “It felt like a moment.”

“I hate you,” Nicole mumbles.

Wynonna pushes up a little, her hands sliding around Nicole’s neck as she pulls her closer. Nicole’s forehead rests against Wynonna’s shoulder, and she takes a deep breath, air filling her lungs. 

“No, you don’t,” Wynonna says quietly.

“No,” Nicole agrees. “I don’t.”

“ _ If I can't believe that someone is true. To fall in love is so hard to do. I hope and pray tonight. Somewhere you're thinkin' of me, girl. Yes, I know...I know that… _ ” Steve Perry sings.

“You love me,” Wynonna continues.

“I do.”

Wynonna snorts. “Save that for your wedding day.”

“ _ When you love a woman, you see your world inside her eyes. When you love a woman, you know she's standin' by your side. A joy that lasts forever; there's a band of gold that shines waiting somewhere...oh yeah _ .”

Nicole blinks. “I found our song,” she breathes out.

Wynonna tips her head to the side. “Our song?”

Nicole sits up. Wynonna stands, stretching her legs out as she sits on the edge of the desk again.

“Not  _ our _ song,” Nicole says, rolling her eyes. “Our song. Me and Waverly’s song.”

Wynonna grins. “What is it?”

“Whatever song this is,” Nicole says, pulling open the office door. Styx’s ears twitch and he stands up, stretching his front paws forward before he starts padding towards the dining room.

Wynonna shrugs. “It’s from the new Journey album.”

Nicole smiles wide. “It’s our song,” she repeats. She looks at Wynonna.

“So you’re going to do it.”

A part of Nicole, the one that remembers standing on the steps as her dad’s 1972 Ford LTD 4-door backed down the driveway and disappeared into the night, wants to say  _ no _ . The part of Nicole that crawled into Nathan’s bed that whole summer and listened to tapes that sounded like her dad wants to run. The part of Nicole that cried into her pillow when Waverly left for college, the same pillow she cried into when Waverly told her maybe they should just talk later, wants to back away slowly. The part of Nicole that still aches when she hears The Eagles, whose hands still burn whenever she listens to CCR, wants to take it all back. The part of Nicole that remembers watching Shae leave her with a ghost of a kiss on her cheek wants to rewind and never ask Wynonna about why Doc has his head up his ass.

But another part of Nicole, the part that remembers what it felt like when Waverly came into The Patch at the same time as Van Halen’s “Love Walks In” started, wants to say  _ yes _ . The part of her that remembers Waverly telling her that Purgatory was her home, that  _ Nicole _ was her home, wants to plant roots into the ground. The part of Nicole that stood in the front hall of the McCready house and prayed Curtis would still treat her the same, even if he knew her secret, wants to run forward head-first into whatever comes next. The part of Nicole that remembers the way Waverly threw herself across Stephanie Jones’s closet wants to tell herself to pull her head out of her ass and realize what she has. 

Nicole nods slowly. “Yeah,” she breathes out. “Yeah, I am.”

Her stomach turns over and she winces nervously. “But first… I need to talk to Gus.”

“ _ When you love a woman… When you love, love, love, love… When you love a woman, you see your world inside her eyes. _ ”

 

-

It takes two days before she can work up the courage to talk to Gus.

She spends the two days fluttering around The Patch nervously, sitting at the counter and habitually patting the small wad of bills she shoved into her wallet the other day. 

She went to the bank after she finished studying with Wynonna, nervously standing in line with Styx close to her legs. Her leg bounced, her toe tapping against the carpeted floor. Her hands were sweaty in her jeans pocket. She hummed an erratic version of “Faithfully.”

Styx read the tight, pinched expression on her face and stayed nearby, curling around her body protectively. Usually, he would take off through the bank and trot into Chrissy’s office, sitting patiently for one of the treats Chrissy keeps in her desk especially for him. 

Instead, he stayed at her side and nosed her hand every few minutes as the before-work rush inched forward slowly.

She took out CA$1000 and hastily put it into her wallet, tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans. Sanvers Jewelers wasn’t open for the morning yet. Gwen Sanvers, the woman who owned it, believed in sleeping in and savoring her morning cup of coffee. It’s why she hadn’t reported a break-in right away a few years ago; she told Diaz she wanted to drink her coffee in peace before a bunch of boys in boots came stomping through her store. 

Nicole had sighed and turned around, Styx trotting at her side, and vowed to come back to Sanvers the next morning. She took Styx down Main Street and went for a long walk, following Rt. 81 out towards the edge of town. She turned at the line of pink houses and slipped down the familiar path she sometimes walked with Styx - through the forest and near the old secret hideout they used years ago.

When she got back to The Patch, she hung around the office and waited for Gus to come out. But Waverly called to say she was done messing around with her presentation and she wanted to take a ride to Moose Lake and spend the day listening to old cassettes on a blanket by the rocky shore with Styx playing in the water nearby.

The next day, she overslept and didn’t have time to get to Sanvers Jewelers before her shift. She barely had time to finish her cup of coffee and drop Waverly off at work.

“I’ll walk to Bustillos after school,” Waverly had told her. “Doc said the Jeep should be done by then.”

Nicole kissed Waverly, revved her engine, grinned as a few freshman loitering on the sidewalk jumped, and took off through the parking lot. She barely made it into the station as the clock struck 0800. 

“You’re nearly late,” Linda had called. “I was about to give your bear claw to Lonnie.”

Nicole rolled her eyes and snatched the bag out of Linda’s hand. “Does  _ Lonnie _ come shovel your driveway in the winter?”

“No,” Linda said evenly. “But for that matter, neither do you, girl.”

“Not yet,” Nicole corrected. 

On her lunch break, she swung by The Patch to pick up her double cheeseburger and she ordered Linda a cup of the Soup of the Day to go. She hovered by the counter, lingering after her food was done, but Valdez told her that Gus was working from home and Wynonna was the only one in the office. 

The new waitress, a high school senior named Amanda, trailed after Valdez. Her eyes were wide and bright and she looked Nicole up and down slowly.

“Are you okay?” Nicole finally asked.

“Fish chowder,” Amanda said loudly.

Nicole tipped her head to the side. “I already have some,” she said, lifting the to go container in her hand.

“You’re Ms. Earp’s girlfriend, right?” Amanda asked breathlessly.

Nicole straightened up a little, smoothing one hand down the front of her uniform. She hooked her thumb through her belt loop. “Sure am.”

“I think you guys are, like, dope.”

Nicole frowned. “What about dope?”

Amanda put up her hands. “Oh, no. It means-”

“She thinks you’re the tits,” Valdez translated. “Ignore her. She’s new.”

Amanda’s cheeks were stained red. “I’m new,” she repeated.

“Dope,” Nicole repeated. “So, not drugs?”

Amanda shook her head rapidly. “Oh, no. No way. I’m… I don’t…”

Nicole squinted at Amanda. “Okay. I have to get back to the station.” She looked up at Valdez. “If Gus comes in…”

“I’ll have Starstruck here give you a call at your desk,” Valdez said, nodding in Amanda’s direction.

“Crack is wack!” Nicole called after Amanda. She shrugged at the confusion on Valdez’s face. “Crack is a rising crisis,” she said firmly. “I read about it on the CPIC database.”

By Tuesday, Nicole isn’t sleeping. She lays in bed as the radio clock on her nightstand turns from 3:59 to 4:00 and she pushes up onto her elbows.

Waverly murmurs in her sleep and presses closer to her, her hand snaking across Nicole’s stomach. Nicole stares down at Waverly’s hand, her left one, and wonders what a ring might look like there, on her third finger. She shifts her weight carefully to one arm and traces Waverly’s knuckles lightly.

“Sir John A. MacDonald was a killer,” she mumbles.

Nicole smoothes back some of her hair. “Of course he was, baby,” she soothes. 

Waverly lets out a soft sigh and rolls over, hands reaching for Styx.

Nicole rolls her eyes as she looks over Waverly’s body at Styx. They gave up on not allowing him in the bed after Nicole pulled a few night shifts a couple of months ago. Waverly had protested that she missed having someone to sleep next to, and by the time Nicole got back on her normal dayshift, Styx was already jumping into bed as soon as Nicole turned the lock on their front door. 

They both did their best impressions of River Phoenix, and Nicole sighed. “But I still sleep by the door,” she demanded.

Waverly had smiled. “Whatever you want, baby.”

Nicole sits up as the clock turns to 4:01 and swings her legs around so they hang over the side of the bed. Styx lifts his head, his eyes wide.

“Go back to bed, boy,” Nicole says quietly.

He puts his head back down and wriggles closer to Waverly.

Nicole pushes up and out of bed, padding quietly to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her firmly before she turns on the light above the mirror. She puts her hands on the sink and leans into the mirror, studying the dark circles forming under her eyes. 

Nedley asked her yesterday if something was wrong. He stared at her from his office for a few minutes until he called her in and told her she looked like something he ran over when he first got his license.

“I’m fine,” she had said, self-consciously running a hand through her hair.

“Maybe take a nap in one of the holding cells,” he suggested. “Or go get an extra coffee.”

Nicole pulls at her cheeks now, stretching the skin out. She frowns at her reflection. The jeans she wore the other day are still hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Waverly was going to do laundry, but got caught up in her presentation and hasn’t done it yet. Nicole pulls them on slowly, careful not to make too much noise. She tiptoes out of the bathroom, shutting the light off before she opens the door, and feels for her dresser in the dark.

Her white shirts are in the top right drawer. It squeaks a little when she opens it, but Waverly doesn’t move or murmur. Nicole exhales slowly and pulls the shirt on over her head, not bothering to comb her hair. There’s a hat on the coat rack by the door; she can wear that. She doubles back across the bedroom and fishes into the dresser for a pair of socks, pulling out the first two she finds. 

Her Red Wing 8877’s are by the front door. She slides her feet into them silently, leaving them unlaced for now. She grabs her leather jacket, her keys, and the black baseball cap she took from Nathan ten years ago, the night she put bologna all over Champ’s truck. She pulls the hat down on backwards, keeping her hair out of her eyes, and quietly moves down the steps, locking the door behind her.

She sits behind the wheel of her Bonneville, arms locked as she wraps her fingers around the wheel. It’s cold, and her breath comes out in small white puffs as she sits in her car. 

“I’ll just drive over and see if Gus is awake,” she tells herself. “Just cruise by. Just a drive-by to see if there’re lights on.”

She starts the car and reaches over for the glovebox, feeling around until she finds the corner of a cassette. She pulls it free from the stash of napkins Waverly has shoved into the box, and holds it out so the light on their outside stairs shines down over the lettering.

_ Hysteria _ stares back up at her. 

Nicole’s face flushes slightly. Her hands shake a little as she open the case, letting the tape slide out into her lap. She pushes it into the tape deck and listens as it clicks into place.

“ _ Ooh we ooh. Ooh wee ooh. In the beginning God made the land _ ,” Joe Elliott starts. 

Nicole puts the car in drive and eases out of the driveway, past Waverly’s Jeep. She doesn’t turn her headlights on until she’s halfway down the street. She gets halfway through “Woman” before she makes a slow turn onto Homestead Ave.

The houses are dark as she drives past them, the street lights lighting up the hood of her car as she passes under them. She peers forward over her steering wheel and breathes out along with Joe Elliott.

“ _ A whole lotta fire, a little bit of ice. _ ”

The McCready house is awake, lights blazing in all of the downstairs windows and what used to be Waverly’s room. Nicole knows that Gus uses it as a home office, now that Waverly has moved out. She takes a deep, steadying breath, and eases her car into the driveway, parking alongside Gus’s 1979 Ford Fairmont station wagon.

“You’re up. She’s up,” Nicole reasons with herself. “You’re awake and she’s awake and you can just ask her.”

The dashboard clock in her car says it’s 4:17. She finishes “Woman” and turns the car off, feeling the hum of the engine die under her feet.

“Just ask her,” she repeats as she gets out of the car. “What’s the worst that can happen? She says  _ no _ ?” Her eyes widen and her feet stick to the driveway. “Oh, god. What if she  _ does _ say no?”

It takes her a minute to unstick from the driveway and climb the front stairs. She feels eight, hovering outside of the McCreadys’ house, nervous to ask if the girl with the scowl and the sad eyes wants to play with her. She feels ten, lingering on the porch as she waits for Wynonna to come stomping down the stairs. She feels sixteen again, in a shirt and tie, asking Gus to mow the lawns.

She blinks, and for a moment, she’s seventeen and she’s telling herself to just go wait by the car for Waverly to come outside for their first date; knocking will make her seem too eager.

“I should have worn a tie,” she says miserably, trying to smooth down her white shirt. She hastily tucks it into her jeans instead.

She knocks lightly on the front door, shifting her weight back and forth nervously.

The door opens a minute later, Gus blinking out into the darkness.

Nicole lifts a hand slowly. “Morning.”

Gus’s eyes widen. “Nicole?” She looks past her. “Is everything okay? Is Waverly okay?” She’s already pulling her coat on. “Is it Wynonna?”

Nicole puts her hands up, slowing Gus down. “No, no. It’s not that.”

Gus’s shoulders slump and she lets out a shuddering breath. “Goddammit, girl,” she hisses. “What the hell else am I supposed to think? It’s 4 o’clock in the morning and you’re standing there with your shoes untied.”

Nicole looks down at her feet and realizes she never laced her ankle-high Red Wings. She feels her face flush. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Gus waves her off and turns, walking into the house. She looks back over her shoulder when she realizes Nicole isn’t following her. “Well, are you coming in or not? I was in the middle of pouring coffee.”

Nicole slips into the front hall and closes the door softly behind her. She knows Wynonna isn’t here - she’s been staying the night at Doc’s place. He moved in above The Patch right after Nicole and Waverly moved out, and Wynonna claimed “ _ It’s just easier if I sleep there. I’m closer to work _ .”

Gus threatened to turn her room into a crafting space. Wynonna had stomped her foot and tried to protest, but Gus looked at her and shrugged. “Why not? You’re practically living with that Holliday boy anyway.”

She still pauses in the front hall, one shoe off and the other sliding down her foot. She reaches out and rests her hand on the end of the banister, feeling the worn wood under her palm. If she closes her eyes hard enough, the wallpaper gets some of its color back; the late afternoon summer sun streams in through the open front door; there’s a cold can of Orange Crush in one hand; she can hear katydids in the long summer grass; a warm hand lands on her shoulder and squeezes softly.

“Nicole,” Gus says sharply.

Nicole startles, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She shakes her head and toes off her boot, leaving them by the door and padding in her sock feet down the hall.

Gus has her accounting books stretched out across the kitchen table and a red pen tucked behind her ear. “I’m just checking them,” she tells Nicole.

Nicole shrugs. “Okay.”

“I trust Wynonna,” Gus adds. “I just like knowing, and-”

“And you don’t want to ask her?” Nicole interrupts.

Gus shrugs a shoulder and nods at the chair Nicole sat in growing up, then turns her attention back to the coffee maker. She pours coffee into her red plaid mug and opens the cabinet, rooting through the shelf for another mug.

She pulls down Curtis’s old mug, the one with the tomato on the side, and fills it. She drops it on the table in front of Nicole.

“Oh,” Nicole says quietly. She shakes her head. “No. I can’t use that mug.”

Gus stares at the giant fading tomato on the side of the ceramic mug. “Someone has to,” she finally says. She pushes it closer to Nicole. “Go ahead.”

Nicole picks it up slowly and sips at the burning liquid.

Gus sits back and breathes in deeply. “So?” she finally prompts.

Nicole curls her hands around her mug. “So,” she echoes.

“There’s got to be some reason why you’re sitting at my kitchen table at 4:30 in the morning,” Gus continues. “I’m assuming Waverly doesn’t know you’re here.”

Nicole shakes her head.

Gus leans forward, her elbow on the table top. “So,” she prompts again.

Nicole takes another sip of coffee, eyes roaming the kitchen. She remembers sitting at this same table, staring dreamily at Waverly sitting across from her, sticking her elbow in syrup. She remembers fighting over what song to play during dinner, Curtis laughing behind his hand as Gus shouted that they wouldn’t be able to listen to  _ anything _ if they were going to use butter knives as weapons. She remembers Waverly in her  _ neon lights _ , slamming the peanut butter jar on the counter. 

“Gus,” Nicole starts. She clears her throat. “Gus.”

Gus narrows her eyes and sips her coffee noisily.

“I want to marry Waverly,” she says.

_ I want to marry Waverly _ .

She’s always known it, but she’s never said it out loud. Not those words specifically. Waverly said it was all she ever wanted, since the first time they kissed. And it’s all Nicole has ever wanted, since the first time she saw Waverly.

But she always thought that when she said it, when she said  _ I want to marry Waverly _ , the words would stick in her throat like a fluffernutter sandwich. 

Instead, she breathes them out like she’s been saying them her whole life, and she sits up a little straighter, feeling her chest expand with a warmth she’s never felt before.

“I want to marry Waverly,” she says again. Her hands flex around her coffee mug and she sips from it nervously.

“I thought you’d dress differently for this conversation,” Gus finally says.

Nicole looks down at her shirt and her jeans. She scowls when she realizes she’s not wearing a belt. Her socks have a hole in them and she  _ swears _ she threw this pair out, but there they are, on her feet. She didn’t cuff the bottom of her jeans and she’s still wearing her leather jacket. She leans forward, pulling the jacket off and hanging it around the back of her chair. She pulls her hat off, runs a hand through her hair, and pulls it back down again.

“When you wanted to wear my lawn, you wore a suit and tie,” Gus reminds her.

“Waverly insisted.” 

Gus snorts. “Of course she did. That girl would have dressed up to go fishing, if Curtis would’ve allowed it.” Gus puts down her coffee cup and stares across the table at Nicole. “So you want to marry her.”

“I’ve always wanted to marry her,” Nicole breathes out.

Gus continues to stare at her, unblinking.

Nicole shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of her calf with her foot. “I-”

“It’s about damn time,” Gus interrupts.

Nicole’s eyes widen. “Wh-what?”

“I said,” Gus starts, clearing her throat. “It’s  _ about damn time _ .” She smiles, the corners of her mouth turning up slowly. 

Nicole exhales loudly. “You’re… You’re okay with it?”

Gus lifts an eyebrow. “Are you looking for my permission?”

“No, ma’am,” Nicole says. She frowns. “I mean, no, Gus.”

Gus nods sharply. 

“Waverly is a modern woman-”

Gus rolls her eyes and Nicole closes her mouth. “She’s been telling me that since she moved in.  _ I’m a modern woman, _ ” Gus mocks. “She was six, stomping around the house with a copy of  _ Good Housekeeping _ .” She frowns. “I’m still not sure where she was getting those from.”

Nicole shrugs a shoulder and looks down into her coffee cup. Wynonna had stolen them from the drugstore for years, distracting Dr. Reggie by knocking an endcap display down and then dipping behind the counter when he went to get the mop or the broom.

“My mom liked to read them,” Wynonna explained to Nicole once. “And Waverly is the one who can read, so…” She shrugged.

Nicole had started bringing her mom’s old copies by and Wynonna stopped taking down Colgate Toothpaste displays. 

“I’m not looking for your permission,” Nicole says firmly. “But Waverly would want to know you’re okay with it.” She pauses and bites down on her bottom lip. “I want you to be okay with it.”

Gus stands up, the legs of her chair scraping noisily against the kitchen floor. She pours herself a second cup of coffee, holding the carafe in Nicole’s direction. Nicole waves her off, but takes a long sip of her coffee. Gus leans back against the counter, her coffee cup close to her chest and her mouth pressed into a thin line.

“It wasn’t easy, the girls moving in with us,” Gus admits. “I was okay with never having kids, you know. And then Curtis got the call that Ward and Willa had passed and those two girls were sitting at the station, waiting for someone to come get them.”

Nicole nods slowly. She’s heard bits and pieces of the story, but Waverly was only six and didn’t remember much about it.

“We couldn’t say no, could we?” Gus sighs. “Ward was Curtis’s best friend and Wendy left them already. No one could get ahold of her. They had deputies tying up the phone lines, tracking down anyone who had ever talked to her. They got a lead out in Regina, but it went nowhere. Finally, Nedley called Curtis and told him what happened. He said he had to call Children’s Aid Societies, but they couldn’t spend the night at the station.”

Nicole shifts in her seat, holding her coffee close. Her thumb brushes over the tomato painted onto the ceramic. 

“So Curtis went and picked them up in his truck and drove them back here,” Gus says, her voice low and faraway. “They had a bag of clothes each, and blankets wrapped around their shoulders. When I reached for Waverly the first time, Wynonna growled at me and wouldn’t let me within five feet of her sister.”

Nicole snorts, turning her head to hide the sound.

“Laugh it up,” Gus mutters. “After she met you, Wynonna wanted nothing to do with Waverly. But those first few weeks, when CAS was in and out of the house, and Curtis and I were arguing about what we each wanted? Wynonna wouldn’t let that girl out of her sight. We gave them both separate rooms, put them to bed and tucked them in and shut their doors. But every morning, I’d peek in on Waverly, and Wynonna would be there, one arm around Waverly and the other clutching a shoe.”

Nicole’s head snaps around, her eyes narrowing.

Gus holds one hand up, stopping her from asking the question on the tip of her tongue. “Ward was a drinker, but he wasn’t that kind of man,” she says firmly. “Wynonna was still a feral cat when it came to Waverly. She wouldn’t let anyone get near her.” She pauses, looking past Nicole down the hall. “That changed when she met you, though.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “She’s always been the same Wynonna.”

“Waverly changed, too. She started coming out of her shell.” Gus laughs. “You remember when she ran around following you all summer? And I tried to get her to come with me one day, down to the pool so that she could try swimming lessons. And she…” Gus trails off and laughs again. “She told me she was busy playing with the two of you and to  _ go fly a kite _ .”

“She told you to go fly a kite?” Nicole asks, eyes wide.

Gus grins. “She thought it was the worst thing she could say to me.”

“Nathan said it me once.” Nicole shakes her head. “I taught it to Wynonna, so we could say it to Champ Hardy when he came around. I didn’t know Waverly was paying attention to that.”

Gus’s smile softens. “She’s been paying attention to you her whole life, Nicole Haught.”

Nicole’s face flushes.

“You don’t need my permission to marry Waverly,” Gus says. She puts her coffee cup down on the counter and walks past Nicole, her hand lingering on Nicole’s shoulder. “But there is something you do need.”

Nicole frowns, listening as Gus’s footsteps disappear down the hall and up the stairs. She finishes her coffee and gets up, refilling her mug, and sitting back down again. She can hear Gus walking around upstairs.

Her heart is racing in her chest. Her palms feel slick. She wonders what Gus could possibly be doing upstairs, but before she can come up with different ideas, Gus is standing in the kitchen doorway, her hand clenched tight into a fist.

Gus grabs the back of the seat next to Nicole’s chair, pulling it out and sitting down. She reaches for Nicole’s hand with her own, cradling it in her palm. She holds her closed fist over Nicole’s flat hand and slowly releases it.

Something cool and weighted falls into her hand. 

“You need this,” Gus says.

Nicole stares down at the ring Gus gave her. “Gus-”

Gus shakes her head. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

Nicole scoffs. “Waverly said that’s not an acceptable thing to say.”

“Waverly is right,” Gus agrees. “But this time, forget about that.”

Nicole holds the ring up in the kitchen light. It’s a gold band, a sapphire stone set in the middle of it. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes out.

Gus is quiet for a minute before she clears her throat, her voice heavy. “It belonged to Curtis’s mother.”

Nicole immediately thrusts it forward. “I can’t take this.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Gus says firmly. “I’m  _ telling _ you.”

“Gus-”

Gus holds a hand up to stop her. “We talked about it a few years after the girls moved in. Curtis’s mom gave it to him before she passed. Made him promise he would give it to one of his kids. Either a son, or to the first boy who asked to marry one of his girls.” Gus shakes her head softly. “We weren’t ever going to have children. The Patch was our baby. But then the girls moved in, and we knew it would be for one of them.”

“I really can’t,” Nicole tries.

Gus ignores her. “Always thought it’d be that Holliday boy, though,” she murmurs.

Nicole shakes her head. “Gus,” she tries a third time.

Gus places her hand over Nicole’s, curling her fingers so that the ring is caught in her fist. “Curtis loved you,” she says.

Nicole feels the corners of her eyes burn. 

“Curtis wanted his girls to be  _ happy _ ,” Gus breathes out. “And the fact that you and Waverly found your happiness in  _ each other _ ?”

Nicole shakes her head, trying to clear her eyes.

“Well. He would have made some ridiculous tape mix about it,” Gus finishes.

“Mixtape,” Nicole corrects without thinking.

Gus smiles crookedly. “Oh, I know. I just like to think that Curtis is somewhere up there listening, and he’s smiling every time I get it wrong. I know he smiles every time he sees you and Waverly.”

The ring in Nicole’s hand feels heavier now, and she holds her fist close to her chest, biting down on her bottom lip. “Are you sure?” she asks.

“As sure as I’ve ever been,” Gus promises. She smiles softly and tucks a strand of hair behind Nicole’s ear, winking. “You’ve always been  _ family _ . It’s about time we make that official, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Nicole thinks. “I think it’s time.”


	2. you know she's standing by your side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole hesitates for a moment. “She’s going to say ‘yes,’ right?”
> 
> Her mom sighs and comes around the desk, perching on the front of it. “Of course she is, baby.”
> 
> Gus nods over her mom’s shoulder. “It’s like I told you, Nicole Haught. That girl has been waiting for this day.”

“This is a beautiful ring.”

Nicole smiles, one hand resting on the belt of her uniform and the other scratching the back of her neck. “It’s a-”

“Family heirloom, I can tell,” Gwen Sanvers says. She turns it over in her hand, holding it under the bright light on her desk. “You just need it cleaned up, then? Resized?”

Nicole thinks for a minute. She pulls a second ring out of her pocket, one she grabbed off of her dresser this morning while Waverly was in the shower. She holds it out to Gwen. “If it matches this size, then I don’t need it resized, but a cleaning would be good, I think.”

Gwen nods. “I know this sapphire has a little more shine. It’ll take me a day or two.”

“Oh, take your time,” Nicole says quickly. “I still have a hundred things to do.” Her eyes widen. “I need to figure out how I’m going to do it, and what I’m going to say, and where it’ll even be, and-”

“Okay, Officer,” Gwen says loudly. “I need you to breathe. Only one of us here knows CPR, and it’s not me.”

Nicole ducks her head, her cheeks red. “Right. Sorry.”

Gwen waves a hand at her. “Oh, honey. Don’t worry.” She takes the second ring from Nicole and pulls out her ring mandrel from the top drawer of the desk organizer on her left. She slides Curtis’s ring -  _ Waverly’s ring _ , Nicole thinks - on the mandrel and checks its size. She takes it off and replaces it with the ring Nicole swiped from Waverly, sliding it down the mandrel.

“Well?”

Gwen looks up with a smile. “You’re in luck. Size is the same, so I won’t need to hold onto it for too long.” She hands Nicole the second ring. “Should be able to pick it up by Friday.”

_ Friday _ , Nicole thinks. She knows she won’t be able to hold onto the ring for too long, the nerves already building in her chest. 

“Great,” she manages. She’ll just have to give it to Wynonna to hold onto. She shakes her head.  _ Someone less likely to lose things. Maybe Chrissy _ .

Gwen waves goodbye, pulling her glasses down over her eyes and leaning over the bracelet she was working on when Nicole stopped in during her patrol. Nicole tucks the ring back into her pocket, lifts her hat off the glass counter where she put it, and tries to plot out the rest of her patrol. Maybe she’ll swing down Rt. 81 and head towards the town line; there’s been reports of a black bear roaming the area lately.

She’s got her head down as she comes out of the building, mind spinning as she tries to think of how and when and where she’s going to propose.

_ I want to marry Waverly _ , she thinks. 

“Woah,” someone calls as they collide with her.

Nicole’s hands go to the person’s shoulders, keeping her upright. She frowns. “Waves?”

“Hey,” Waverly says brightly. She looks past Nicole, to the sign on the building, and frowns. “What’re you doing in Sanvers Jewelers?”

Nicole feels the back of her neck start to burn. Her throat tightens. Her hand shakes and she forces it into her pocket. “A case,” she finally says. “The robbery out at the Wright property. They had some stolen jewelry. We’re trying to determine their values. Gwen’s the-”

“Best jeweler in the county,” Waverly finishes. She jokingly taps her palm against the side of her head. “Of course.”

Nicole frowns. “Isn’t it the middle of the day?”

Waverly tips her head to the side before she jumps a little and smiles. “Oh!” She grips Nicole’s forearm, her fingers hot through the polyester.

Nicole feels her heart start to beat faster and she smiles. “Oh?”

“Principal Moody is covering my study hall for me.” Waverly lowers her voice. “Someone from Canada’s National History Society came by today to watch me teach, and wanted to take me out to lunch to ‘pick my brain,’ they said.”

Nicole smiles wider. “That’s great!”

“I’m taking them to The Patch.”

“Only the finest we offer here in Purgatory,” Nicole jokes.

“Are you going to lunch?” Waverly asks hopefully.

Nicole’s shoulders slump. “I wish. I’ve got to finish my patrol, and I packed a lunch today, remember.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “You made a fluffernutter.”

“It’s lunch,” Nicole insists. “I also packed-”

“An Orange Crush, two Jos Louis snack cakes, and the rest of the bag of Cheezies is  _ not _ lunch,” Waverly argues. “It’s high cholesterol.” 

Nicole opens her mouth to argue when a woman slips up next to Waverly. Her gray hair is pulled back into a bun, a pair of glasses on the brim of her nose. She’s wearing a tweed skirt suit that reminds Nicole of something Sharon Coulter, from Mayor Hamilton’s office, might wear. 

“You were correct again, Ms. Earp,” the woman says happily. “Ms. Hunter is a fantastic wealth of knowledge.”

“ _ Ms. Hunter, _ ” Nicole mouths.

Waverly laughs brightly, tossing her head back enough that Nicole can see the muscles in her neck move. “I told you. Ms. Ruthie is the town’s historian. She’s been crucial in my ‘Purgatory, Our Town’ curriculum.”

_ Ms. Ruthie _ , Nicole thinks.  _ Right. Her last name is Hunter. _

“Ah,  _ yes _ . Your curriculum. I read it over last night and I was absolutely spellbound,” the woman says. She looks at Nicole, eyes widening as if she’s finally realizing there’s someone else there. “Oh, my. How rude. I’m sorry. I’m Helen Gentile, from Canada’s National Historical Society.”

“This,” Waverly steps in, her hand on Nicole’s arm again. “Is my girlfriend, Office Nicole Haught.” She smiles proudly. “She’s with the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department.”

Nicole smiles widely and offers her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Gentile.” She tips her hat.

“Oh, call me Helen. Ms. Earp here was showing me the sights and sounds of Purgatory,” Helen says. “It’s quiet the town.”

“We sure love it.”

Helen smiles softly. “I was hoping to take Ms. Earp to lunch.” She looks at Waverly. “Would you like to join us, Officer.” Her eyes sparkle. “I’m sure you can also offer a unique perspective to Purgatory’s history.”

Waverly squeezes her arm to get her attention. “I told Helen about the project you helped me start. The mixtape one,” she prompts.

“Oh, right,” Nicole says. “Honestly, I just nudged Waverly in a particular direction. She did all the heavy thinking.”

“It’s simply genius,” Helen gushes. “What a way to connect with the students. And to have the project run from the start of the year to the end, with a final mixtape that best describes what they’ve learned across your class? It’s  _ simply genius _ ,” she repeats.

“I call it their Greatest Hits,” Nicole adds. “We have an unofficial hall of fame at home.”

A 1994 Honda Accord goes by slowly, pulling up to the stop sign in the middle of Main Street. Benji Thompson leans out of the driver’s window. “Hi, Ms. Earp!”

Waverly waves.

Benji’s face flushes as he catches sight of Nicole. “Officer Haught. Fine day, isn’t it?”

Nicole hooks both of her thumbs in her belt, puffing her shoulders up. She fights a smile as Benji sits up a little straighter. “Sure is, son,” she says, her voice booming. “How’s the job working out?”

Benji relaxes a little. “Great. Mr. Nathan is tough, but he says I have potential.”

Nicole smiles this time. “Good. If he gives you too much trouble, you give me a call.” She pauses, glancing at Waverly out of the corner of her eye. “Where’re you headed?”

Benji points ahead, at the large neon tomato in the distance. “The Patch, for lunch. My-my…” He swallows and licks his lips, eyes skating past Nicole and landing on Waverly for a minute. “My girlfriend just started working there. Amanda?”

Nicole’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Benji says.

A car rolls up behind Benji and he looks in his rearview mirror. “Well, I better-”

“Go ahead,” Nicole says, her voice low again. “And stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Benji says hurriedly. He looks briefly at Waverly. “Bye, Ms. Earp.”

Waverly waves and smiles. Nicole watches Benji hit the gas and rocket a little too hard across the intersection. He slows down and eases into a free parking spot in front of The Patch. 

Waverly elbows her slightly. “You need to give him a break.”

“I like that he goes as red as a Campbell’s Soup can, though.” Nicole sighs when Waverly keeps staring at her. “Okay, I’ll try.” She tips her hat at Helen again. “I do have to get back on patrol, though. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Gentile.”

Helen holds out her hand. “And you, Officer Haught.”

Waverly grins. “Chrissy and Perry are coming over for dinner,” she reminds Nicole. 

Nicole nods. “I remember. I’ll pick up some of the bread you like from Farm Boy after my shift.”

Waverly presses up onto the tips of her toes and brushes her mouth against Nicole’s cheek.

Nicole watches her lead Helen down the sidewalk, stopping to point out various buildings on Main Street.

She spends the rest of her patrol cruising through Purgatory. It’s early October, and Thanksgiving is the 14th, right around the corner. Farm Boy is advertising turkeys. The drugstore is selling decorations. Even The Patch put pumpkin pie on the menu and their holiday hours on the door.

Rt. 81 is quiet; not a lot of traffic going in or out of Purgatory in the middle of the day. She turns around at the town line and heads back into town, aiming her cruiser towards the side streets. 

The residential streets are quiet. Mrs. Dray’s trashbins are tucked neatly against the side of her house. Mr. Mortimer moved out a year ago, but Mrs. Dray is still convinced that he’s somehow responsible for tipping them over once a week. She drives down Homestead, past Doc’s parents’ place, and smiles sadly at what used to be the old Pressman house. Nicole is pretty sure that the Kerns lived there next, but now it’s the Delaneys - a young couple with two kids. Nathan mentioned something about a new guy named Delaney who just started at the factory and has a little boy a month older than Hayley.

She pulls her sunvisor down and smiles at the newest Polaroid there, one of her and Waverly and Hayley Joan Haught, bundled up in the blue blanket Waverly found at the baby store in the city, with the same white fluffy clouds as the wallpaper in  _ Toy Story _ . 

“ _ You’ve got a friend in me _ ,” Waverly sang. 

Nicole groaned. “No. No. We’re not teaching her  _ Randy Newman _ first. I have an  _ entire _ rock history outline planned, and Randy Newman isn’t a part of it.”

She gets back to the station and finishes her paperwork for the day, filing some solved cases and starting new folders for cases piling up on her desk. When the clock ticks from 1659 to 1700, she shuts down her computer, pushes in her chair, and adjusts the picture frame on the corner of her desk. 

“Have a good night,” Linda calls absently, looking down at her crossword.

Nicole drops the second Jos Louis snack cake from her lunch on the counter, sliding it towards Linda. “You, too.”

She stops at Farm Boy on her way home, picking up a loaf of the Italian bread that Waverly likes. She drives past Sanvers Jewelers slowly, noting the single light in the back where she knows the workshop is. She wonders if Gwen is working on her ring right this moment, polishing it and bringing the shine of the sapphire out so it matches the shine in Waverly’s eyes. 

She rolls her eyes at herself and turns the volume up, letting Steve Perry’s vocals wash over her. She went to Mattie’s the other day, at the tail end of her lunch, and picked up Journey’s new cassette,  _ Trial by Fire _ . “When You Love A Woman” is the third track, but she likes “Message of Love” and “One More” enough that she listens to them instead of fast-forwarding.

“ _ Why have I waited so long to be there...for you. Now, now I'm ready to give everything...to you. Now love's here, where are you,” _ she sings. 

Perry’s 1993 Mercedes Benz is parked in her driveway, behind Waverly’s Jeep, when she gets home. She frowns a little. There’ll be no shower now before dinner. She tugs at the collar of her uniform and loosens the top button, crossing the driveway and stopping at Ms. Ruthie’s gate, her hat in one hand and the loaf of bread in the other..

“It’s nearly Thanksgiving,” she says.

Ms. Ruthie looks up from her rocking chair and waves a hand at her. “Why do you insist on bothering an old woman?”

Nicole makes a show of looking around. “What old woman?”

Ms. Ruthie laughs and Nicole smiles. “You’re too much for your own good, Nicole Haught.” She nods towards Nicole’s apartment. “Company tonight?”

“Chrissy and Perry,” Nicole says.

“I knew that,” Ms. Ruthie says, rolling her eyes. “I can  _ see _ that Mercedes sitting right there in the driveway.”

Nicole shakes her head, smiling. “I’ll probably be out in a few minutes with Styx, but I should head up now. I’ve got the bread.” She holds the loaf in her hand up.

“Waverly took him for a walk a few minutes ago,” Ms. Ruthie says. She moves in her rocking chair and checks the silver watch on her wrist. “Going on ten minutes ago now.”

Nicole frowns. “Really?”

Ms. Ruthie nods and rocks forward. “Stopped and talked to me about some lady from Canada’s National Historical Society.”

“Helen Gentile,” Nicole offers.

Ms. Ruthie snaps her fingers. “That’s the one. Nice lady. She gave me her number.”

Nicole smirks and wiggles her eyebrows. “Still got it, huh?”

Ms. Ruthie’s cheeks flush. “Oh, hush. Don’t you have a dinner to get to?”

Nicole checks her watch and winces. “Yeah, I better.”

“Come by tomorrow for lemon cake,” Ms. Ruthie calls as Nicole turns and jogs across her driveway.

Nicole pauses on the stairs. “Will do.”

She pushes through her front door. Chrissy is sitting on her couch, feet in Perry’s lap. She’s idly flipping through Nicole’s newest  _ Rolling Stone _ , the one with naked Brooke Shields on the cover.

“I thought the article was pretty good,” she says.

Chrissy jumps a little, kicking the Nokia 8110 manual Perry is reading out of his hand. 

“Hello,” Nicole says, tipping her head to the side.

Chrissy sits up, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. We got here early and Waverly still needed to take Styx for a walk, but said it was okay if we just waited here.”

Nicole laughs and hangs her hat on the coat rack, putting the loaf of bread down on the small table where they put their keys. “It is, don’t worry.” She kneels down and unlaces one of her shoes, reading the cover of the manual still on the floor.

“New phone?” she asks.

Perry smiles and picks up the manual. “Just got it up this week. It’s a Nokia 8110. There’s a panel that slides up and down the keypad.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Or, just use a payphone.”

Perry shakes his head. “Use of payphones is declining,” he says. “Just you wait. Soon, one day, everyone will use cellphones.”

Nicole snorts. “Not me.”

“Oh, of course,” Perry says. “I’m talking to the person who still uses a telephone with a cord.”

Nicole stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “How else am I supposed to  _ think _ while I talk?”

Chrissy snorts. “Wait until they stop selling cassette tapes.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Nicole says, her voice low. Mattie told her that the last shipment to the store was mostly compact discs and Nicole bought three tapes - including Styx’s  _ Edge of the Century _ , which she already owns - and promised to come back in mid-week, too. 

Chrissy holds her hands up in surrender. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I refuse to accept that as fact,” Nicole says, unlacing her other shoe.  “Oh!” she says suddenly, looking at Chrissy. “You’re being considered for a promotion!”

Chrissy laughs lightly, glancing at Perry. “Waverly can’t keep a secret to save her life, can she?”

“That’s so great, babe,” Perry says. He reaches over and kisses Chrissy’s cheek.

“Sure she can.” Nicole shrugs. “I didn’t know she liked me for  _ years _ .”

Chrissy rolls her eyes. “No, she didn’t hide that well. You’re just a space case.”

“Whatever,” Nicole murmurs, rubbing the back of her neck.

It hits her, though, that Waverly  _ can’t _ keep a secret. She doesn’t like when other people have them, either. She hunts people down, following leads like a reporter for the  _ Ottawa Citizen _ , until she has an idea of what’s going on. The last time Nicole managed to keep something a secret, Waverly found out about the Def Leppard tickets  _ weeks _ before they even went to the concert.

She starts to panic.

She can’t keep her proposal a secret for very long; Waverly will find out about it. And she can’t hide the ring in the house. She once tried to hide a six-pack of Moosehead, but Waverly found them in back of the refrigerator, and drank them all while Nicole was on a weekend trip with Wynonna.

“Chrissy?”

Chrissy looks up from the  _ Rolling Stone  _ she went back to reading.

“Can I talk to you in the kitchen?” Nicole wrings her hands together, resisting the urge to pick at the skin next to her thumb. She walks into the kitchen, noticing the timer on the oven is counting down. It smells like lasagna. 

Chrissy frowns, but gets up and shrugs a shoulder at Perry, following Nicole into the kitchen. She leans back against the counter.

For a moment, Nicole closes her eyes and she can smell fresh-cut grass. She can feel the summer sun peeking through the windows as sixteen-year-old Chrissy pushes off counter in the Nedley’s kitchen and kisses her. 

“I have to tell you something,” Nicole says. She gives into the urge and picks at her thumb with her finger, digging in until the sharp pain overshadows the dull roar in her stomach. “About Waverly.”

Chrissy’s forehead wrinkles as she frowns. She tips her head to the side and studies Nicole carefully. “Okay?”

Nicole takes a deep breath and starts pacing, matching the same path she paced at The Patch - one, two, three, four, turn sharply, and back again. 

“Is everything okay?” Chrissy asks. Her eyes widen. “Oh my god, what’s wrong? Is she dying?”

Nicole freezes, her mouth dropping open. “Is she…  _ dying? _ ”

Chrissy’s cheek flush, but she holds her ground. “You look like you’re about to tell me she’s dying.” She tips her head again. “Though maybe the uniform is the reason.”

Nicole undoes another button and runs her hand through her hair, wincing when she notices the small splash of blood on her thumb. “She’s not dying,” she sighs. “But  _ I _ might.”

“Do we need to make a mixtape?” Chrissy asks, her eyes sparkling.

“Okay,” Nicole says loudly. “If you don’t want to-”

Chrissy laughs and grabs for Nicole’s arm, shushing her. “Okay, okay. Just stop being  _ dramatic _ and tell me what’s up.”

Nicole takes a step back, inhales deeply, and exhales through her nose. “I want to marry Waverly.”

Chrissy blinks. “That’s it?”

Nicole’s mouth drops open again. “Wh-what do you  _ mean _ , that’s it?” she sputters.

“I thought it was something more…” Chrissy shrugs. “Brand new,” she finally says.

“I want to marry Waverly,” Nicole repeats, slower, in case Chrissy missed something.

“I’ve known that since we were sixteen.”

“But, I-” Nicole cuts herself off and groans.

Chrissy sighs softly and crosses the kitchen, her hands on Nicole’s arms. “Okay,” she says softly. “This is a big deal.”

“Yes,” Nicole sighs. “Thank you.”

“This is the tits,” Chrissy continues. “This is dope. So fly. Like, totally bitchin’. Seriously banging.”

Nicole groans again and tries to turn away from Chrissy. 

Chrissy’s grip tightens and she stops laughing. “I’m  _ sorry _ . It’s just, part of me is  _ annoyed _ it took you this long.” She stomps her foot lightly. “I had my bets on 1998.”

“You… You had  _ money _ on this?” Nicole asks, blinking rapidly.

“I had money on December 1998, specifically.” Chrissy shrugs at the confusion on Nicole’s face. “Stephanie Jones’ party. When you guys kissed for the first time. Oh, come on.” She laughs. “You are  _ totally _ sentimental like that.”

Nicole ignores her and narrows her eyes. “Who else was betting?”

Chrissy pushes out her lower lip as she thinks. “Me, Perry,” she says, counting her fingers. “Jeremy, Dolls, Rosita. Oh! Doc and Wynonna.” She frowns. “At one point, Waverly was betting, too, but she stopped.”

“ _ Waverly _ ,” Nicole repeats.

“But that doesn’t matter anymore,” Chrissy says quickly. “You want to marry Waverly!”

Nicole ducks her head, her cheeks burning. She rubs at the back of her neck. Her polyester shirt feels too heavy and hot. “I do,” she says quietly.

“Save it for the ceremony,” Chrissy says. “When?”

Nicole shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t wait too long, because I can’t keep a secret from her, you know?”

“The Def Leppard tickets,” Chrissy says, nodding. “I remember.”

“But I want to do something big.”

Chrissy hums thoughtfully and pulls out a kitchen chair, sitting down. “Bigger than standing on the lawn with a boombox over your head.”

Nicole flushes. “Yeah,” she mumbles.

“Bigger than making her walk out of the house to ‘More Than Words’,” Chrissy continues. “Something bigger than showing up at her dorm room for her 21st birthday. Bigger than-”

“Okay, I get it,” Nicole hisses. 

Chrissy grins widely. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll-”

The door opens and Nicole can hear the sharp  _ clack _ of Styx’s nails on the hardwood floors. She pushes off the counter and into the doorway of the kitchen, Chrissy right behind her. Waverly is coming through the door, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. She’s changed out of the outfit she had on for work this morning, and she’s in a pair of flare jeans and Nicole’s three-quarter sleeve Earth, Wind & Fire shirt. 

She looks up and smiles.

_ I want to marry Waverly _ , Nicole thinks. 

Waverly frowns, looking her up and down. “You’re not changed yet?”

Nicole looks down her uniform. “Oh. I just got home,” she lies.

Waverly hangs Styx’s leash up on the coat rack. “Nedley kept you late today?”

Styx bounds across the room, tumbling over his front paws as he runs. Nicole holds up a hand, stopping him.

Chrissy makes a show of clapping her hands over her ears. “Go ahead and talk about the big, bad Sheriff. Pretend like I’m not even here.”

Perry shakes his head. “No way. I’m taking notes. He still likes you more than he likes me.”

Nicole laughs and claps her hand down on Perry’s shoulder. “He really does, doesn’t he?”

Waverly snorts and steps in front of her, curling her fingers into the collar of Nicole’s uniform shirt. “You’re mental.”

“Am I?” Nicole asks, a smile on her face.

“For sure,” Waverly breathes, stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss Nicole softly. “Hi, baby.”

Nicole’s hands drift to Waverly’s waist, squeezing softly. “Hey, yourself.”

“Dinner should be almost done,” Waverly says, her mouth moving against Nicole’s. “And then I have an announcement to make.”

Nicole pulls back, eyebrows raised. “Oh, yeah?”

Waverly grins and winks. “Yeah. So you go get changed, and I’ll cut that loaf of bread.”

Styx follows her into her room, curling up on the floor at the end of the bed. Nicole smiles at him as she methodically takes off her uniform - hanging her shirt and pants on the back of the bathroom door. She pulls a pair of jeans out of her closet, sliding into them and folding the bottoms of them carefully. She picks a band shirt out of her drawer, trading her white undershirt for the Def Leppard Slang tour shirt she bought at the concert. She rolls the sleeves up and double-checks her reflection in the mirror. She nods sharply and calls for Styx, heading back into the living room. 

Waverly is pulling the lasagna pan out of the oven, setting it down on the stovetop. Nicole moves around her, pulling down plates and picking silverware out of the drawer. She sets the table for four and fills Styx’s bowl for him. She opens the refrigerator and grabs a few cans of Moosehead Pale Ale, setting them down on the table. She keeps one for herself, pulling the tab and taking a long sip. She leans back against the counter, watching Waverly shout something at Chrissy as she cuts into the lasagna.

_ I want to marry Waverly _ , she thinks. 

They’re in the middle of eating when Waverly clears her throat and puts down her bottle of Zima. 

“I have an announcement to make,” she says slowly.

Nicole finishes the last of her Moosehead and puts the can down, smiling reassuringly at Waverly.

Waverly nods slightly. “A lady from Canada’s National Historical Society came by today,” she starts.

“We have one of those?” Perry asks.

Chrissy swats him in the arm gently. “Hush.”

“I thought it was because of the presentation I’m giving in front of the school board next month?”

Nicole frowns. “It wasn’t?”

Waverly shifts in her seat. “Nope,” she says, popping the  _ p _ . “Apparently, a group of students from my 10th grade ‘Perspectives’ class last year nominated me for something called the, uh…” She pauses, snapping her fingers as she remembers the name of it. “The Governor General’s Award for Excellence in Teaching Canadian History.”

Nicole’s mouth drops open. “Baby,” she breathes out. “That’s… that’s a  _ big deal _ .”

Waverly shrugs like it’s not, but her cheeks are red and she’s ducking her head slighty. “It’s not really  _ that _ big of a-”

“It’s so  _ dope _ !” Nicole shouts. She glares at the confusion on Perry’s face. “What? Kids say it now.” She turns back to Waverly, sliding closer and resting her arm along the back of Waverly’s chair. “Baby,” she says softly. “That’s so, so-”

“Dope?” Waverly asks, her eyes sparkling. She leans in and smiles. “Thanks.”

“A nomination like that is huge,” Perry says. He lifts his beer in her direction. “Congratulations.”

Chrissy narrows her eyes and squints at Waverly over the top of her bottle of Zima. “There’s more,” she says decisively. “What is it?”

Waverly glares at her. “How do  _ you _ know?”

Nicole pulls back and studies Waverly’s face, narrowing her eyes. “There’s more,” she agrees. She looks at Chrissy. “She has more.”

Chrissy nods. “She’s doing that-”

“Exactly.”

Waverly’s eyes flash as she looks between Chrissy and Nicole. “I don’t like whatever this is,” she says.

Nicole grins and brushes her fingers against Waverly’s shoulder. “Just tell us the rest.”

Waverly huffs, but rolls her eyes and leans into Nicole, resting her forehead against Nicole’s shoulder for a moment. “Helen told me that I was on the shortlist for the award,” she admits. “And  _ then _ ,” she says slowly. “She told me I was one of the winners.”

Nicole’s eyes widen. “What?”

Chrissy and Perry start clapping and cheering. Perry bangs his beer on the tabletop. 

Waverly laughs and hides her face in Nicole’s shoulder. “It’s the inaugural year of the award, but there were two of us. The other winner was a man named Charles Hou from British Columbia.”

“This was a country-wide award?”

Waverly’s cheeks are nearly fire-engine red. “I guess the kids talked about my unique approach to projects and making history feel relevant.” She shrugs. “At least, that’s what Helen said.”

Nicole smiles wide. “That’s my girl,” she murmurs into Waverly’s hair. 

“She also loved the ‘Purgatory, Our Town’ curriculum, and wanted to take a copy of it with her back to Manitoba.” Waverly drops her hand to Nicole’s knee and squeezes. “She said there’s a lot of smaller schools who are looking to create the same type of thing, but don’t have any idea where to start.” 

Chrissy claps her hands together loudly. “I knew I brought those Nanaimo bars over for a reason.”

Nicole’s eyes widen. “Nanaimo bars? You brought some? You said you weren’t making them anymore.” She immediately frowns. “Where? I didn’t seem them in refrigerator.”

“I put them behind the head of lettuce in the produce drawer,” Chrissy says. “I didn’t think you’d look for them there.”

Nicole opens her mouth, but pauses. “Good call.”

Waverly snorts. “Maybe I should hide the marshmallow creme there, so you’ll stop eating so many fluffernutters.”

“Maybe you can also sleep on the couch,” Nicole mumbles. She looks expectantly at Chrissy. “Go get them?”

Waverly elbows her lightly in the stomach. “Hey. You’re supposed to be in awe of me. It should overshadow anything else in your life.”

“Can I be in awe of you  _ and _ eat a Nanaimo bar?”

Waverly rolls her eyes and follows Chrissy into the kitchen to get the Nanaimo bars out of the refrigerator.

They clear their dinner plates and dole out the Nanaimo bars, arguing about which game to play.

Waverly just bought Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego? to add to their collection. Now they have that, 13 Dead End Drive, Jumanji, Sorry!, and Electronic Dream Phone - that Nicole refuses to ever take out of the closet. 

“We’re not playing Sorry!,” Nicole decides immediately. The last time they played, Chrissy wouldn’t speak to her for a week.

Perry turns Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego? over in his hands and shrugs. “It looks…”

“Not as fun as 13 Dead End Drive?” Nicole suggests.

Waverly groans. “Not that game again.”

“I like this game,” Nicole says defensively.

“Yeah, because it’s all about solving a murder,” Chrissy mumbles. “And you’re a cop.”

“That’s like saying you’d be better at Monopoly because you’re a banker,” Nicole fires back.

“What about Jumanji?” Perry asks.

Waverly shakes her head quickly. “No. No way. We watched that movie and I  _ told _ Nicole to get rid of the game, but she said-”

“It’s a game and it’s not going to bring monkeys through my living room,” Nicole finishes. “Because if it did, they’d go through my stereo and I would have kill. I’d have to kill  _ monkeys _ .”

Chrissy snorts.

“Okay, fine. 13 Dead End Drive.  _ Again _ ,” Waverly says pointedly, glaring at Nicole. “Let me just get everything picked up and rinsed off.”

“Want help?” Chrissy asks, already starting to stand. 

Waverly waves her off. “No, no.  _ You _ don’t live here.”

Perry snorts, beer dribbling out of his nose. “She told you.”

Nicole flips Perry off and slips into the kitchen. She comes up behind Waverly, rinsing off the dishes so Nicole can load them into the dishwasher later. She puts her hand down on either side of Waverly, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. “I’m proud of you,” she breathes out.

Waverly sighs and leans back against her, tipping her head back until she can see Nicole’s face. “Did you ever think?”

“Not usually,” Nicole murmurs, dropping her mouth down to Waverly’s neck. She presses small kisses wherever her mouth can reach, her hands sliding around Waverly’s front.

Waverly laughs, and Nicole feels her whole body shake. “I mean, did you ever think this is where we would be in our lives?” She’s breathless, as if speaking too loudly will break whatever spell has fallen over them. 

Nicole inhales deeply, breathing in Waverly’s shampoo and the smell of their laundry detergent. She remembers being eighteen, breathing in the scent of Waverly’s hairspray that lingered in her car, even after she drove around with the windows down. She kisses Waverly’s neck, the same spot she’s been kissing for nine years, and shakes her head.

“No,” she admits.

“I did,” Waverly says confidently.

Nicole scoffs. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” Waverly insists.

Nicole lifts her head, raising an eyebrow. “You knew that someday we would be living together, with a dog? That you’d be the best damn history teacher in all of Canada-”

“Co-best teacher,” Waverly corrects.

“ _ Co-best _ teacher in all of Canada?” Nicole finishes, rolling her eyes.

Waverly turns in her arms, her hands wet as she rests them on Nicole’s arms, just above her wrists. “I knew we would be happy. And I knew we would be together.”

“That wasn’t what you asked me,” Nicole murmurs.

“I knew it the minute I walked down the front steps at Gus’s, and you had already gotten out of your car and you looked  _ so cool _ ,” Waverly breathes out. She squeezes Nicole’s arms when Nicole scoffs and looks away. “I’m  _ serious _ . I was so nervous and you looked like you weren’t, like you were Cool Hand Luke. You said ‘ _ wow _ ’ when I got to the bottom of the steps and I remember thinking…” She trails off, her hand sliding up Nicole’s arm.

“You remember thinking…” Nicole prompts.

“I remember thinking that I knew it was going to be the best night of my life.”

“Until the end,” Nicole murmurs.

Waverly sighs and hooks a finger under Nicole’s chin, pulling her head down until their eyes meet. “From the minute you picked me up to just before Wynonna came storming onto the porch like some juiced version of Edna Garrett, it was the best night of my life. I knew we were going to be big.”

“I was just barely eighteen,” Nicole says. “You were only sixteen. How could you have known?”

Waverly shrugs. “My whole life, spending ten minutes with you was better than spending two hours with anyone else.”

Nicole leans down, her forehead against Waverly’s. “You said that after you went out with  _ Champ _ .”

“I meant it then, and I mean it now, Nicole Haught,” Waverly says firmly. “And that first date, I didn’t have to spend ten minutes with anyone beforehand. I got you all to myself. No Champ. No Shae.”

Nicole smoothes her hand across Waverly’s hipbone. “Just us.”

“Just us,” Waverly echoes.

Nicole remembers that night - getting ready three hours early, changing her outfit what felt like a hundred times. She remembers the way her palms felt sweaty against the leather of her steering wheel. She remembers pulling into Shorty’s and thinking,  _ this was a bad idea. She’s going to hate it _ . She remembers how her stomach flopped when Waverly pushed up onto her toes and kissed her softly in the corner of the arcade, and the way the neon lights caught in her hair as they kissed in the corner of the roller rink.

“You really didn’t think it?” Waverly asks again.

Nicole shakes her head. She didn’t  _ think _ , but she  _ hoped _ .

“I’ll never forget it,” Waverly says, turning back around to the sink and grabbing another plate, turning the water back on and rinsing it off. “I don’t know if anything will ever top that night.” She looks back over her shoulder at Nicole and smiles to take the sting out of the words.

Nicole knows, now. She knows  _ exactly  _ how she’s going to propose.

Someone clears their throat.

“I’m just here for some Zima, in the kitchen,” Chrissy says loudly, one hand up in front of her eyes. “I am now in the kitchen.”

“When did  _ you _ become such a prude, huh?” Waverly tosses back.

Nicole doesn’t hear them go back and forth. Her mind is racing as she tries to put her thoughts in order. 

_ Well, I’ll need to talk to-  _

_ And if he agrees, then I can-  _

_ But I’ll need- _

_ And I can’t do it without- _

“Oh!” Waverly says loudly. She turns in Nicole’s arms, startling her. “I need to call Wynonna.”

Nicole swallows, her mouth dry and her mind a thousand miles away. She shakes her head lightly and checks her Casio DW-6500. “If you call now, you can catch her at The Patch before closing.”

Waverly smiles and pushes up onto her toes, kissing Nicole sloppily. She ducks under her arm and grabs the receiver off the wall, punching in the number to The Patch. 

Nicole looks around and realizes that Chrissy has gone back into the living room. She can hear someone turn on her Panasonic Platinum Series RX-CT980 and she wrinkles her nose - Perry picked Vertical Horizon’s  _ Running On Ice _ , just like he always does when Chrissy and Perry come over for dinner and to play a board game.

“ _ I know it's been a long road to get these towns behind me, and I will gladly reap what we may sow. I am there for you and you're there for me _ ,” Matt Scannell sings.

“Don’t let them start the game without me,” Waverly warns as the phone rings.

Nicole grabs another Moosehead out of the refrigerator and nods. “I’ll try and contain Perry. He gets very competitive, you know.”

“Perry,” Waverly scoffs. “You mean  _ you _ get competitive.”

Nicole opens her mouth, but Waverly squeals and Nicole’s eyes widen.

“Wynonna!” Waverly shouts. Styx’s head lifts up, eyes sharp. Waverly’s shoulders slump and Styx puts his head down. “Oh, Valdez. I’m sorry. Can you put Wynonna on? Tell her it’s her sister.” Waverly pauses and frowns. “What do you mean she asked which sister? It’s  _ Waverly _ .”

Nicole snorts softly and moves back into the living room. She catches Chrissy’s eye and nods in the direction of the stereo. Chrissy slides off the couch and casually walks to the stereo, picking up a cassette - .38 Special’s  _ Rock & Roll Strategy _ \- and turning it over in her hands.

“I know how I’m going to do it,” Nicole mutters over Vertical Horizon’s “Wash Away.”

Chrissy’s head snaps up. “You do?”

Nicole nods, leaning back to peek into the kitchen. Waverly is pacing in a circle, twirling the phone cord around her finger. “I do,” she murmurs.

Chrissy bounces on the tips of her toes excitedly, her hand gasping Nicole’s arm and squeezing. “Okay, perfect. What do you need from me?”

“I need you to hold onto the ring,” Nicole says slowly. She takes a deep breath. “And I need you to round everyone up.”

 

-

Waverly pauses in the doorway of their bedroom, her mouth turned down in a pout and her shoulder rolled in. “Are you sure?” she asks for the tenth time.

Nicole laughs and stands up, brushing down the front of her uniform shirt. “Baby,” she starts.

“I know, I know,” Waverly cuts in. “I know you said it was fine. And you don’t mind. But I just want to make sure.”

Nicole loops her arms around Waverly’s waist and pulls her close, their hips pressed together. “I’m  _ sure _ ,” she says slowly. “I want you to go. You won a  _ national _ award, Waves. That’s  _ huge _ .”

Waverly pushes out her lower lip and threads her fingers into Nicole’s hair. “I wish you were coming.”

“On your ‘ _ Merlot, shopping, and spa day’ _ with Chrissy and Rosita?” Nicole snorts. “No, thank you.”

“But I could model all the clothes I’m going to try on,” Waverly says.

Nicole hooks her finger under Waverly’s chin and tips her head back. “You can model the ones you bought when you get home.” She pauses. “Maybe tomorrow. Because tonight -”

“You’re taking me out,” Waverly finishes, smiling.

“It’s the least I can do,” Nicole says.

One of Waverly’s hands slides down her front and into the loops of her belt. “It’s the most,” she murmurs.

Nicole feels the back of her neck start to burn and she clears her throat, slowly moving her hands along Waverly’s waistline. “Just remember that I’m going to pick you up at, like, seven. Okay?”

“I can’t believe you got the weekend shift,” Waverly grumbles.

Nicole shrugs. “This way, I can have Thanksgiving off, though.”

Waverly sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Wynonna is cooking the turkey this year.” She frowns. “Maybe we should get another one? As backup?”

Nicole laughs. “I already bought a second one. It’s in Gus’s refrigerator right now. Apparently, Wynonna read about a guy in the United States who cooks whole chickens on top of a can of beer. She’s convinced it’ll work with a turkey, too.”

Waverly’s eyes widen. “Oh, god.”

“I know.” Nicole shrugs a shoulder. “The good news is, Gus is still making the cranberry sauce. And my mom is making the mashed potatoes with the onions and the mushrooms that you like.”

“And Doc is still bringing the whisky,” Waverly adds.

“I’m bringing mincemeat pie,” someone says from behind Nicole.

Nicole looks over her shoulder and grimaces. “You can keep that at your house.”

Chrissy grins widely. “Everyone else likes it.”

Nicole rolls her eyes and leans down an inch, kissing Waverly softly. “How come she’s in my living room?” Nicole breathes against Waverly’s mouth.

Waverly smiles against her mouth. “I told her to just come upstairs. Rosita-”

“Let’s get this party started!” Rosita shouts as she comes in through the front door. “I’ve got a piñata in the car. We’re gonna crack this baby open!”

Waverly’s eyes widen. “Really?”

Rosita’s shoulders slump. “Not really, but if I had known you’d be excited for it, I would have gotten you one.”

Nicole rolls her eyes and kisses Waverly again, untangling herself. “That’s my cue, I think.”

“No can do, Officer Haughtshot,” Chrissy interrupts. “I’m parked behind you. Might as well wait.”

Nicole huffs, pretending to be annoyed. “Fine,” she says. “But if I get clocked as late, I’m telling your dad.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes and mutters ‘tattle tale’ under her breath.

Nicole meets Chrissy’s eyes over Waverly’s head.

Chrissy nods slightly and winks, instantly smiling when Waverly turns and grabs for her arm.

“Oh,” Waverly says, turning back around. “Tonight. What should I wear?”

Nicole shrugs, going for casual. “Something casual. You know, you have that long sleeve dress in your closet,” she suggests. “The pink one?”

Waverly wrinkles her nose as she thinks. “It’s a little cold to be wearing a skirt,” she says, looking down at the jean overalls she’s wearing today, a white thermal shirt under that.

“You have tights, right?”

Waverly’s eyes narrow and then the lines on her forehead smooth out. “You’re right. Black tights would look great with that dress.”

Nicole smiles and runs a hand through her hair, trying to ignore how sweaty her palm is. “Perfect,” she says, the word sticking in her throat. “I’ll make sure Nedley doesn’t keep me late.”

Waverly playfully shakes a finger in her direction. “He better not. My best baby promised me a night out.”

“And that’s exactly what you’re going to get,” Nicole promises. She reaches for the pocket of Waverly’s overalls and slides her hand in, pulling Waverly close. She kisses her, lingering for a moment before letting go. “Okay, get out of here. I’ll feed Styx and take off in a few minutes.”

Rosita cheers and takes off down the stairwell, singing “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” loudly enough to make Styx wince. Chrissy laughs and follows after her, telling her to can it. Waverly pauses in the doorway, smiling softly at Nicole and blowing her a kiss.

Nicole stands in the window that overlooks the driveway and watches them get into Chrissy’s  1994 Chrysler LHS. She hears Rosita call ‘shotgun’ and then laughs when Rosita pouts and gets into the backseat. Waverly is smiling widely, standing on the frame of Chrissy’s car as she shouts something at Chrissy, before she slides into the front seat.

She can hear the Cyndi Lauper cassette come on as Chrissy starts the car. She sees Waverly throw her arms up in the air and start singing along. Chrissy backs down the driveway and puts the car in drive, taking off along the street.

Part One of The Plan is complete: get Waverly out of Purgatory.

It’s been nearly a week since she told Chrissy she knew how she was going to propose to Waverly, and she’s spent each day since then putting it together. The day after their game night, she stopped by the bank on her lunch break and holed up in Chrissy’s office, explaining her idea.

Chrissy was practically in tears by the end of it, but she told Nicole that was a good thing.

“She’s going to  _ love _ it,” Chrissy gushed. 

Nicole picked at the skin around her thumb and bit down on her bottom lip. “I hope so. Because if she doesn’t…” She laughed nervously.

Chrissy waved her off. “Don’t be an airhead. That girl is  _ dying _ to marry you.”

Nicole reached into her pocket, turning the small velvet box over in her hands before she put it on the desk and slid it towards Chrissy.

“Is that…”

Nicole nodded. “The ring.” She nodded at the box. “Go ahead. Open it.”

Chrissy picked up the box and held it gently in her hands. She opened it and exhaled slowly. “It’s  _ beautiful _ ,” she breathed out.

“It was Curtis’s mom’s,” Nicole explained. “Gus gave it to me.”

When Chrissy looked up, her eyes were wet and red around the edges. “She’s going to love it,” she repeated. Chrissy straightened up and nodded sharply. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“Keep that somewhere she won’t see it,” Nicole instructed. She leaned forward, looking back at Chrissy’s closed office door. “I told her I was going to take her out this Saturday. To celebrate. A whole day in the city. I was going to get appointments at that spa she likes.”

“The one with the-”

Nicole nodded. “Yeah. Except, I’m not going.”

Chrissy frowned. “What?”

“I need you and Rosita to take her instead,” Nicole said. “I need you to be in charge of keeping her out of Purgatory for the day. I’ll never be able to set anything up without her finding out about it.”

Chrissy narrows her eyes and thinks about it for a minute. “Massages?”

“And those things where they put the cream on your face and the cucumbers on your eyes.”

Chrissy nods. “Sold.”

“I’ll take some cash out right now and you guys can do lunch at that fancy place Waverly likes where the wine glasses are  _ really _ tiny and they never fill them all the way,” Nicole continues, trying to remember every part of the plan she’s already crafted in her head. “You come back to Purgatory around six? And drop her off at home and then we start Part 2.”

Chrissy leaned forward over the desk. “I’m listening.”

Nicole looks down at Styx and smiles. “Okay, boy. Let’s get changed.”

She takes off her uniform, hanging it back up on the hanger she just pulled it down from an hour ago. Styx chews on a rubber toy in the middle of the room as she finds a pair of jeans in the closet and pulls them on. Slowly, she rolls the cuffs of the jeans, squinting to make sure they’re just right. 

“What do you think?” she asks Styx.

He ignores her.

“Me, too,” she says, sighing. She unrolls them and tries again, feeling better the second time. She slides out of them and lays them on the bed.

She pulls another white undershirt out of her dresser, comparing it to the one she’s already wearing, and puts it down next to the jeans on the bed. She goes back to the closet and stands in front of it, eyes scanning her flannels until she finds the one she’s looking for.

It’s behind the new one Wynonna got her last year, and a little dulled compared to the new one, but she takes it off the hanger carefully and holds it up in front of her. Black and blue patterned, with a small pocket on the left side. 

“Perfect,” she says.

She grabs the ironing board and the can of spray starch from the small closet in the bathroom and sets it up in the bedroom. She puts on Asia’s self-titled cassette, for old time’s sake, and irons her pants, undershirt, and flannel while she sings along to “Heat of the Moment.”

“ _ It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant. The heat of the moment shone in your eyes _ .”

Styx whines and rolls over.

When she’s done, she checks her reflection in the mirror and grins. Her pants are creased and her undershirt is crisp and her flannel is still warm when she puts it on. She slides into her Red Wing 8877’s and laces them all the way up, pulling her jeans down over them when she’s done.

“Come on, boy. Next step,” she calls to Styx. She stops in front of her trunk, popping it open and pulling out her gym bag. She lifts the cover off the spare tire and fishes out the plastic bag she stowed there. She checks the contents and nods, rolling the bag back up. She looks down into the trunk and wonders, for the hundredth time, if she picked the wrong thing. Maybe Waverly won’t get it.

“Snap out of it,” she tells herself.

They get into the car and Nicole stashes the bag on the bench between them. She puts in “Crystal Ball.” Styx sticks his head out the window, his tongue lolling to one side as they head towards Main Street. She pulls into the station parking lot and lets Styx out, shaking her head as he runs ahead of her and sits at the door, waiting for it to be open. When she gets there and opens it, he darts into the building, rounding the front desk and trotting towards Nedley’s office.

“Today’s the day,” Linda calls. She reaches under the counter and grabs a plastic bag, tossing it towards Nicole.

Nicole catches it and opens it, peeking inside.  _ Perfect _ , she thinks. She looks up at Linda takes a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck,” Linda snorts. “You don’t need luck. You need guts.”

Nicole rolls her eyes and knocks on the open door of Nedley’s office. 

“Come in,” Nedley says.

Styx is already lying in the bed Nedley has for him in the corner of the office, happily gnawing on a brand new bone.

“You’re going to spoil him, sir.”

Nedley narrows his eyes. “Is that a problem?”

Nicole holds up her hands in surrender. “Of course not, sir.”

Nedley puts down the report he’s holding. “Are you ready?”

Nicole shrugs. “As I’ll ever be.” She looks at Styx. “Are you sure you don’t mind-”

“If the rest of that sentence is ‘ _ taking care of him _ ,’ I’m gonna have Lonnie toss you out of this building,” Nedley interrupts.

“I’d like to see him try,” Nicole murmurs. She peers down at Nedley’s desk, turning her head slightly to read the heading on the file he has open. “Is that the new drug printout from the CPIC?”

Nedley closes the file and covers it with his hand. “You’re not working today, Haught,” he warns.

“Sir,” she starts.

Nedley shakes his head firmly. “No. You came here to drop off Styx and that’s it. You have more important things to do today.”

“Purgatory is important, sir,” she argues.

“And so is Waverly.”

Nicole sighs. “I want to read it first thing Monday.”

“Deal,” Nedley says. “Now, remind me what you need from me.”

Nicole had come in after meeting with Chrissy earlier in the week, scratching nervously at the back of her neck. “Uh, sir?”

“Come in,” Nedley said gruffly. “I want you to look over these CPIC printouts. They’re reporting a rise in drug-related crime in the city. Cannabis is going down, but cocaine is on the rise.”

“I’ll call the guy I know in Edmonton, get some real numbers,” she offered. “Maybe he can tell us if it looks like it’s migrating this way.”

Nedley nodded and peered at her. “That’s not why you came in here, though.”

“No, sir,” she admitted. “Can I sit?”

He nodded at the chair in front of his desk.

Nicole took a deep breath. “Sir, I’m going to ask Waverly to marry me.”

Nedley stared at her for a few moments. “Am I supposed to be shocked by that?”

“Wh-what?” Nicole asked, her throat closing.

Nedley shrugged. “I can try a surprised face, but you remember my surprise party last year.”

Nicole fought a smile. Nedley had walked into his surprise party, huffed at them all, and asked if there was any  _ real _ beer while he sneered at the cans of Molson in the coolers by the food table. She shook her head and tried to refocus.

“Chrissy called,” Nedley said before she could get a word in. “She said you have a plan?”

Nicole swallowed heavily. “Yes, sir.”

Nedley steepled his hands in front of him on the desk. “So, what can I do?”

Nicole nodded in Styx’s direction. “Can you be in charge of him for the day?”

Nedley scoffed. “That’s it?”

Nicole nods at Styx. “Keep track of him for the day,” she reminds him.  

“Right,” Nedley says. He gives Styx a rare smile. “We have a whole day planned.”

Nicole raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“We’re going on patrol, and maybe stopping at the park,” Nedley starts listing. “I heard Mrs. Hotten is bringing her labrador out today and Styx likes to play with Princess.”

Nicole’s eyes widen. “Patrol?  _ Princess _ ?”

“Just a short drive around,” Nedley insists. He narrows his eyes. “What do you have against Princess?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Nicole says quickly.

“And then I’ll take him to his appointment at Dips N’ Clips,” Nedley finishes. 

Nicole frowns. “I didn’t make him an appointment.”

Nedley glares at her. “I did.”

Nicole blinks, trying to wrap her mind around what’s happening. “Uh…”

“It’s the second biggest day of your life, Haught. Everyone needs to look their best,” Nedley says.

Nicole looks down at her flannel and her jeans and frowns, but when she looks back up, Nedley is shaking his head.

“You look your best,” he says firmly. “You look  _ happy _ .”

Nicole inhales sharply and looks past Nedley’s shoulder, then scans the room, finding the picture of his wife. She swallows and nods sharply, blinking to clear her eyes before she looks at him again. “Thank you, sir,” she murmurs.

“Right, well…”

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it. Chrissy left an hour ago, and they won’t be back in town until 1800.”

Nedley nods. “I’ll have Diaz put up a speedtrap by the town line. He can radio in when they go by.”

Nicole flushes. “You don’t need to-” She cuts herself off when Nedley glares at her.

“And then,” he prompts.

“And then when you meet us tonight,” Nicole starts. “You can wear these.” She hands the plastic bag Linda gave her across the desk.

Nedley takes it and opens it, peering down into the bag. He snorts. “I think we can manage that.”

Nicole kneels down and lets Styx give her goodbye kisses before she nods her thanks to Nedley one last time. She waves goodbye to Linda and steps back into the parking lot. It’s starting to warm up, the sun hot on the back of her shoulders. She pulls her Ray Bans out of her flannel pocket and slides them on, taking a deep breath.

She trades her Styx cassette out for Van Halen’s  _ 5150 _ , grinning as she fast-forwards to “Love Walks In.”

“ _ Contact is all it takes, to change your life to lose your place in time _ ,” Sammy Hagar sings.

She puts the window down, driving slowly down Main Street. The breeze is cold, but it feels good against her skin. She’s nervous, and making these last minute rounds, to make sure everyone is ready, isn’t helping. The tension is building in her stomach like she’s on the Gravitron again; like she’s waiting on the front porch for Waverly to come down for their date; like she’s pushing a Snapper up and down the McCreadys’ lawn and Waverly is in her bathing suit; like Waverly is throwing her leg up in the air and practicing her cheers.

When she pulls into Bustillos, she grins. Dolls’s  1986 Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS Convertible is sitting in the parking lot next to Doc’s  1979 Lincoln Continental Collectors Series 53B. She parks next to them and gets out of the car, spotting Perry’s ‘93 Mercedes Benz just past the bay of garages. She follows the sound of Jeremy excitedly telling a story about improving the efficiency of prescription ordering at the drugstore.

Doc brightens up when he spots her coming towards them, pushing off the grease-stained couch he’s sitting on. He starts clapping loudly. “If it isn’t the woman of the hour.”

Nicole rolls her eyes and swats her hand in his direction when she’s close enough. She doesn’t actually try to hit him; his coveralls are grease-stained and practically oozing.

“Well, here we are,” Perry says. “Chrissy wouldn’t tell me what we we’re all in charge of.”

“Good,” Nicole says. “I couldn’t risk you blabbing about it to Waverly.”

Everyone turns and looks at Jeremy.

“What?” he asks, ducking his head. “I haven’t accidently spilled a secret in years.”

“Which is when people stopped telling you secrets,” Dolls says kindly. He rests his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and squeezes gently. 

Jeremy pouts. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

“You won’t be able to,” Nicole points out. “Chrissy and Rosita took her to the city for the day. They’ll be back tonight.”

“I must repeat,” Doc starts, running a hand through his hair. “I find this to be remarkably romantic.”

Nicole feels her face flush. “It’s not,” she insists.

Doc puffs out his chest. “What you have devised for our Waverly is-”

“The bombdiggity,” Jeremy cuts in.

“Pretty bitchin’,” Dolls adds.

Perry shrugs. “I think it’s totally choice.”

Doc narrows his eyes at the other three. “I suppose those are all applicable to this situation, yes. But I was going to say something more-”

“Long-winded?” Dolls asks.

“ _ Poetic _ ,” Doc says loudly. “Something more poetic.” 

“Okay, boys,” Nicole cuts in. “I would love to stay and watch this play out, but I’ve got a hundred stops before Waverly gets back into town. So, hands out.”

Jeremy claps his hands excitedly before stretching them out eagerly. Dolls smiles fondly at him before turning his attention to Nicole.

Nicole opens the plastic bag she’s holding and pulls out a few bills and hands them to Perry.

“This is what I’m in charge of?” he asks, turning the bills over.

Nicole nods. “You’re responsible for turning them in. And exchanging them.”

Perry smiles crookedly. “Easy enough.”

She picks out a small piece of paper from the bag and hands it to Dolls. “Shoe size,” she explains.

Dolls smiles quickly. “I can do that.”

She pulls the next thing out of the bag slowly, eyeing Jeremy. “This part is a big deal.”

Jeremy straightens up, his face stern as he nods. “I can do it.”

Slowly, Nicole hands him a cassette case, keeping her hand over it as she presses it into Jeremy’s. “Music is everything,” she says firmly.

“I know it is.”

“It can make or break a moment.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“What song was playing the first time you realized you liked Dolls?” Nicole asks Jeremy, leaning in close.

Jeremy swallows. “Uh, ‘Let’s Hear It For The Boy’ was on. We were in your squad car.”

Nicole pulls back a little. “Really?”

Jeremy nods.

Nicole shrugs. “That’s a good song.”

“I know, right?” Jeremy says excitedly.

“But imagine,” Nicole says, her voice going low. “Imagine if ‘ _Kokomo_ ’ by _The_ _Beach Boys_ was playing.”

Jeremy shudders.

“Exactly,” Nicole says. “It would have changed everything.” She leans in again. “So don’t play anything that isn’t on this mixtape, okay? It’s the single most important part of the night.”

“Well, I think that maybe pro-”

Nicole growls softly and Jeremy snaps his mouth shut. He nods silently.

Dolls rubs his shoulder gently. 

Nicole nods towards her car. “Your part is in here,” she says to Doc. He follows her to the car and she pops the trunk and lifts it high, pointing. “You need to bring this.”

Doc smiles wide and reaches forward. 

Nicole kicks at his leg. “Don’t touch it. Your hands are grody.”

Perry slips around Doc’s shoulder and picks it up. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises. “Until he takes a shower, I mean.”

“Is there a dress code?” Jeremy asks from behind her. “Should we dress up?” His eyes sparkle.

Nicole shrugs a shoulder. “No? This is what I’m wearing,” she says, running a hand up and down her body. She frowns. “Should I dress up more?”

Doc shakes his head firmly. “No. You look exactly as you should for this endeavor. Dressing up would take away the heart of what you’re trying to accomplish today.”

Nicole sighs in relief. “Good. Because I can’t kneel down in a suit.”

Doc smoothes a hand down his coveralls. Nicole winces as they pass through a particularly large spot of grease. She almost gags when he runs the same hand through his hair. He smirks. “Do not fear. I will shower before this event,” he promises.

“Thank god,” she mutters. 

She checks her Casio and frowns. Somehow, it’s nearly noon and she’s still got a list of people to talk to. She makes the boys promise to be on time and hustles to the car, sliding in and turning it on quickly. She peels out of the parking lot, enjoying the way the gravel kicks out from under her tires. She looks in her rearview mirror and grins when she sees Doc whooping and jumping up and down. 

She hits The Patch next, pulling into an empty spot in the front.

Amanda is at the table by the door, taking an order while Valdez hovers behind her. Valdez nods in the direction of the office and Nicole smiles gratefully. She can hear Bobo singing “Love Will Find A Way” by Yes. She grimaces and continues to the office, knocking lightly before opening the door.

She pauses in the doorway, frowning. “Mom?”

Her mom looks up from the newspaper she’s reading over Gus’s shoulder. “Hi, honey,” she says brightly.

“What’re you doing here?”

Her mom smiles. “Gus and I figured it would be easier if you had us in the same place. Today is stressful enough. You don’t need to be chasing us all around town.”

“Where’s Wynonna?”

“I haven’t seen her,” her mom offers. 

Gus grunts. Nicole’s mom pokes her gently in the shoulder.

“Don’t mind her,” her mom says. “She’s just grumpy because she didn’t get to spend the day with Styx.”

Nicole fights a smile. “Well, I can drop him off tomorrow, if you want.”

Gus shrugs a shoulder, but eventually nods. “I’ll just take him home tonight,” she offers.

“That’d be fine,” Nicole says. “Do you have-” She stops, noticing Gus’s face. “Right. You have things.”

Her mom claps her hands together. “So, what do we get to do?”

Nicole rubs the back of her neck. “It sounds kind of lame, now, but I was hoping you two could do food?”

“Of course we can,” her mom says. She elbows Gus. “Can’t we?”

“Of course we can,” Gus echoes, her voice softer. “Any requests?”

Nicole grins and dips her hand into her back pocket. She pulls out her wallet, opens it, and finds the list she stuffed behind the 1977 Doug Ault Toronto Blue Jays baseball card she took from the Christmas box years ago. She cut the string off and slid it into her wallet. The next year, when her mom asked about it, she didn’t say anything and let her believe Nathan had taken it.

“A few,” she says, holding the list to Gus.

Gus unfolds the list and scans it. “French fries. Onion rings. Orange Crush. Hot dogs,” she reads, highlighting the list. She folds it back up. “I can do this.”

“I’ll run to Farm Boy for whatever you need,” her mom adds. 

“Joan and I have it,” Gus says reassuringly. Her voice and eyes soften. “Don’t worry about us, honey. We’re all rooting for you.”

Nicole hesitates for a moment. “She’s going to say ‘yes,’ right?”

Her mom sighs and comes around the desk, perching on the front of it. “Of course she is, baby.”

Gus nods over her mom’s shoulder. “It’s like I told you, Nicole Haught. That girl has been  _ waiting _ for this day.”

Nicole takes a deep breath. “I hope it lives up to the hype.”

Her mom squeezes her hand. “It will, baby.”

Nicole nods slowly and then rolls her neck, focused again. “Can I call Nathan?” she asks, already reaching for the phone. She waits until Gus nods before she dials Nathan’s house, tapping her foot anxiously.

“Well, hello, Loverboy” Mercedes answers.

Nicole frowns. “Is that how you answer the phone?”

“I knew it was you,” Mercedes says. 

“How did you know it was me?”

“Caller ID,” Mercedes says, the ‘ _ no doy’ _ unspoken.

“But what if I was Gus?”

Mercedes snorts. “She’s a self-made woman. I wouldn’t say no.”

Nicole gags in Mercedes’ ear. She looks up and waves off her mom and Gus’s concern. “Can I come over now? Or is Hayley sleeping?”

“It depends if you’re coming over to see me or my daughter.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Both,” she says. “And Nathan, if he’s there?”

Mercedes sighs. “Fine. I suppose I can share your attention for one day.”

“Get ready to share it for the rest of my life,” Nicole says, hanging up before Mercedes can say anything else. She blinks when her mom and Gus stare at her. “Mercedes,” she explains. 

“Ah,” her mom says. “Well, give my grandbaby kisses for me, will you?”

Nicole promises and lets her mom kiss her on the forehead before she sneaks out of the office and back through the dining room. She can feel Amanda staring at her from behind the counter, so she turns and waves. Amanda flushes and ducks into the kitchen.

Nicole laughs and gets back in her car, following Main Street down and towards Beech. She turns before Homestead, taking a small winding road to a small section of houses being built on a cul-de-sac. She parks in front of Nathan and Mercedes’s house, grinning at ‘Haught’ written in black letters on their mailbox. She knocks and listens to someone coming towards the door.

“Loverboy,” Mercedes says, grinning. “Let me guess. You’ve finally come to sweep me off my feet.”

“You wish,” Nicole mutters.

Mercedes steps back and gives Nicole some space to slip into the house. “Only every other night.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. 

“You just missed Wynonna,” Mercedes says.

Nicole frowns. “I was supposed to meet her The Patch.”

“I think she said she was headed to the woods?” Mercedes shrugs a shoulder. “I didn’t care enough to listen.”

“The woo-” Nicole stops, shaking her head. She’ll deal with that later. “Where’s my niece?”

“Rocking,” Nathan says as he steps into the front hall. He’s holding Hayley, just over a year old, in his arms. She has a small pair of headphones on, the cord connected to the Walkman on Nathan’s belt. “Education starts young.”

Mercedes narrows her eyes. “It better not be Weird Al again,” she warns.

Nicole’s eyes widen as she turns to look at Mercedes. “I think I love you.”

Mercedes throws her arm dramatically across her face. “ _ Finally _ ! Nathan, darling. Kiss me goodbye. I’m running away with your sister.”

Nathan shrugs a shoulder. “I’m not explaining that one to Waverly. But I’ll give you the day to get a headstart before the angry fiancée shows up.”

“She’s not my fiancée yet,” Nicole points out, her stomach twisting.

Nathan snorts. “Semantics.”

Nicole snorts. “That’s a big word for you.”

Nathan gives her a fake smile. “I read.”

“He heard it on television,” Mercedes interrupts. “Seriously, Nathan. What is she listening to?”

He mumbles something neither of them can hear.

Mercedes frowns at Nicole and then looks at Nathan. “What?”

“I said,” he enunciates. “It’s the  _ Pretty Woman  _ soundtrack.”

Nicole laughs and reaches for Hayley. “Give her to me before you ruin her even more.”

Nathan takes the headphones off of Hayley and sets her down. She looks up and sees Nicole and starts crawling over, babbling away. 

“It’s a good soundtrack,” Nathan argues.

Mercedes sighs. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“So tonight’s the night?” Nathan asks, looking at Nicole.

Nicole kneels down and lets Hayley bump against her, poking at her face. She scoops her up off the floor and bounces her niece in her arms. “Tonight, yeah,” she says. She lifts Hayley’s arm to her mouth and blows a raspberry.

“What do you need from us?” Mercedes asks, leaning into Nathan’s side.

Nicole watches the way they look so comfortable. Nathan lifts his arm and drapes it across the back of Mercedes’s shoulders as Mercedes leans her head down onto his chest. “I need you there,” she admits. “For moral support?”

Nathan frowns. “That’s it?”

“That’s not...  _ it _ ,” Nicole says. “I mean, yeah, that’s it. But it’s important. It’s more important than tickets.”

“Tickets?” Mercedes asks.

Nicole shakes her head. “I’m not explaining this well.” She shifts Hayley in her arms and takes a deep breath, about to try again.

Nathan cuts her off. “You need us there,” he says.

Nicole blinks. “Yeah,” she says dumbly.

“Then we’ll be there,” he says firmly. He looks down at Mercedes. “Right?”

Mercedes nods, her eyes soft. “Of course we will be.”

Nicole looks down at Hayley. “And what about you, Peanut?” She leans in and rubs her nose against Hayley’s soft, red hair. “Will you be there?”

“Sure she will be,” Mercedes says. “But she might sleep through Auntie Nicole’s big moment.”

“I have a mixtape,” Nicole says dismissively. “We’ll tell her the story someday while we listen to it.”

“What time?” Nathan asks.

Nicole shrugs. “I’ll be there by 1915?” She rolls her eyes when they just stare at her. “7:15,” she translates.

“We’ll be there,” Mercedes repeats.

Nicole sighs. “Perfect,” she breathes out. “I’m super nervous,” she admits.

Nathan smiles reassuringly. “It’s going to be one of the best nights of your life. Proposing to Mercedes is definitely in my Top 5.”

“Top  _ five _ ,” Mercedes repeats, leaning away from Nathan.

“Yeah, right behind our wedding day and the birth of our daughter, obviously,” he says. He looks at Nicole. “And that one time on Halloween when I-” 

Mercedes elbows him in the side and he coughs.

“Now I just have to find Wynonna,” Nicole mutters.

Mercedes frowns. “I think she went out to that old hideout of yours.”

Nicole frowns, but kisses Hayley goodbye, ducks under Mercedes’s teasing hug, and tells Nathan she’ll see him later and that he needs to stop letting Hayley listen to  _ crap _ music.

“Don’t worry,” she promises Hayley before she hands her off to Mercedes. “I’ll protect you from the pop of the world.”

“You listen to  _ glam rock _ ,” Nathan yells as she leaves the house.

She finds Wynonna exactly where Mercedes said she would: sitting on the ground under the big tree they used to call their Secret Hideout.

“You avoiding me?” Nicole asks.

Wynonna looks up. “I’m  _ meditating _ .”

“To…” Nicole listens and frowns. “To The Human League?”

Wynonna frowns and presses the stop button on Nicole’s 1975 Hitachi.

Nicole stares at it for a second. “Where did you get that?”

“I stole it,” Wynonna says, shrugging a shoulder.

Nicole sighs and looks around, wondering what she can sit on so she doesn’t get her jeans dirty.

Wynonna points at the canvas backpack against the tree. “I packed a blanket.”

“Oh, you figured I’d come out here chasing you?” Nicole asks, reaching into the bag. She unfolds the blanket and lays it down next to Wynonna, dropping into the center of it.

“You always do,” Wynonna says quietly. 

Nicole snorts.

Wynonna lays down, pillowing her hands under her head. She presses play again and they listen quietly to the end of “Mirror Man.”

“ _ And if it seems I'm not the one you used to know, our little friendship, left behind not long ago… _ ”

“Things won’t change, right?” Wynonna asks.

Nicole frowns and looks over at her. “What?”

“With us,” Wynonna clarifies. “Things won’t change. You’ll always chase me, right?”

Nicole puts her hand out, stretching until she feels Wynonna’s elbow under her fingertips. “Always,” she murmurs.

Wynonna is quiet for a minute, before she turns her head and looks at Nicole. “Hey, remember that time we snuck out here in the middle of the night because Mattie was holding that midnight viewing of  _ Rocky Horror Picture Show _ ?”

Nicole laughs. “And Curtis was sitting in his truck, at like, three in the morning with a cup of coffee in his hand, and our bikes in the back of his truck?”

Wynonna rolls onto her side. “You almost peed your pants.”

“He looked like he hadn’t slept!”

“He didn’t! He kept going back into The Patch for more and more coffee.”

They lay there for a few hours, taking turns playing tapes and laughing about when they were younger. Nicole checks her watch as her last tape pick - Chicago’s  _ Chicago X _ \- fades out and sighs.

“It time?” Wynonna asks.

Nicole sits up and snorts. “I’m not marching to my death.” She pauses. “And neither is our friendship,” she adds pointedly.

Wynonna rolls her eyes, but reaches out and lets her hand fall on Nicole’s wrist, squeezing softly. “Promise?” she asks, looking away, out into the dense woods.

Nicole turns her hand over, lacing her fingers with Wynonna’s. “Promise,” she breathes out.

Wynonna sighs heavily. “Well, then. I guess you can go propose to her.”

Nicole narrows her eyes. “You’re going to be there?”

Wynonna’s head snaps around, her eyes clear. “I wouldn’t miss it for  _ anything _ ,” she says quietly. “You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine,” Nicole says firmly. “This doesn’t change  _ anything _ . It never has and it never will.”

Wynonna seems to think it over for a moment before she nods. “I should start working on my wedding speech.” Her eyes start to sparkle.

Nicole groans. “Oh, god.”

Wynonna shakes her head and grins. “It’s going to be  _ fantastic _ .” She shoves at Nicole’s shoulder. “Get going, or you’re going to be late.”

Nicole starts through the woods, back towards her car. Just before she reaches the trail, she turns and looks back over her shoulder at Wynonna. She smiles softly and shakes her head. She catches sight of her watch in the corner of her eye and inhales sharply. It’s nearly 1745 now.

She drives the speed limit, tapping anxiously against the steering wheel in time with Bon Jovi’s “Keep The Faith.” Everyone keeps telling her Waverly won’t say no, but there’s a knot forming in her stomach anyway.  _ People always leave _ , she thinks.

A voice that sounds like Wynonna tells her to  _ get bent _ and  _ stop being an airhead _ .

She slows down as she reaches their street.  _ This is it _ , she thinks.  _ This is where the rest of your life starts _ .

She pulls into the driveway and reaches for the Asia tape in the glovebox. She takes a deep breath as she puts the car in park. She dumps  _ Asia _ out of the case and puts  _ Keep The Faith _ back where it belongs. She can see the curtain upstairs move - Waverly checking to make sure it’s her - and she turns down the volume on “One Step Closer” as she gets out of the car.

Waverly meets her at the bottom of the stairs, coming out of the house just as Nicole reaches the back steps. She picked the pink dress, the long-sleeved one with a scoop neck and the hem just above her knees. She put black tights on underneath, that disappear into a pair of black boots Nicole hasn’t seen in years. 

“Wow,” Nicole breathes out.

Waverly runs a hand up and down her arm, her eyes falling to the ground before they meet Nicole’s again. “You like it?”

Nicole takes a step forward and lets her hands fall to Waverly’s waist. She squeezes softly. “You look beautiful,” she says quietly.

Waverly smiles shyly and then laughs. “I don’t know why I feel so…”

“Nervous?” Nicole supplies.

Waverly nods. “It’s just a date. And not even, like, a fancy one.”

Nicole bites down on her bottom lip. “We haven’t been on a date in a while,” she offers. “Like, a real one. Maybe that’s it.”

“Maybe,” Waverly breathes out. She grabs for the end of Nicole’s shirt, rubbing the flannel between her fingertips. “You look aces,” she murmurs. She pulls Nicole closer so that the tips of Waverly’s boots bump against Nicole’s Red Wings.

Nicole smiles down at Waverly. “It’s just something I threw together.”

Waverly grins. “I like it a lot.”

A door opens and shuts somewhere nearby, and Nicole startles.

“You girls have a good time!” Ms. Ruthie yells. She catches Nicole’s eye and winks.

Waverly grins and grabs for Nicole’s hand, tugging her towards the car. “Where are you taking me?” she asks.

“You’ll see,” she says, sliding her fingers between Waverly’s. She opens the driver’s door and lets Waverly slide in, settling in the middle of the bench. She takes a deep breath and gets in after Waverly, flexing her hands on the wheel. “You’ll see.”

 

-

Nicole turns off the car and gets out, reaching back for Waverly’s hand. 

“Can I look, yet?” Waverly askes, eyes shut tightly.

Nicole shakes her head. “Nope, just another minute more.”

She scans the parking lot and grins. Doc’s Lincoln, Dolls’s Monte Carlo, Perry’s Benz, her mom’s station wagon, Rosita’s Mustang, and Nathan’s new ‘94 Chrysler Concorde are all parked in front of the building. She narrows her eyes for a minute, but then sighs softly. Wynonna’s Honda Accord is parked just behind Doc’s car, almost out of sight.

Everyone is here. 

_ At least _ , she thinks to herself, her mind pulling up the last time she saw Curtis, leaning out of his truck window and kissing Gus goodbye.  _ Everyone who could be _ .

She holds a hand over Waverly’s eyes and takes a deep breath. “Are you ready?” she breathes in Waverly’s ear.

Waverly shivers. “Yes,” she says impatiently.

Nicole drops her hand from Waverly’s face and lets the blue and pink neon lights above Shorty’s building wash over them. They light up Waverly’s dress and sparkle off the tops of her shoes. Nicole smiles hesitantly and shoves her hand into her front pocket. 

“Games?” Nicole asks. “And then skating?”

Waverly’s mouth is hanging open, eyes wide. “Really?”

Nicole scratches at the back of her neck with her other hand. “Is this okay?”

Waverly squeals, bouncing on the tips of her toes. “This is  _ perfect _ .” She grabs for Nicole’s hand and tugs her across the parking lot, peering at the cars as she goes. “That’s  _ so _ weird. That looks just like Dolls’s Monte Carlo.”

Nicole follows Waverly, reaching ahead of her to grab for the door and pull it open. Waverly’s hand tightens in hers as “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” pulses through the building. 

Waverly laughs and loops a finger into Nicole’s belt. “God, I haven’t heard this song in  _ forever _ .”

Nicole opens her mouth to say something, but catches sight of Nedley, standing just inside the door, nearly invisible in the shadows. “Oh, my  _ god, _ ” she breathes out.

“What?” Waverly asks. “What’s-” Her hand slips out of Nicole’s slowly. “Oh, my  _ god _ .”

Nedley slides his Aviators down his nose until Nicole can see his eyes. “Ladies,” he says gruffly. He’s got his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, the black shirt Nicole got him tucked into his waistband tightly. The white lettering stands out, spelling the word ‘ _ security _ ’ in all capital letters. 

Waverly is staring at Styx, though, sitting patiently at Nedley’s feet, in his own Aviators and shirt.

“For the record,” Nicole feels the need to point out. “I only bought the matching shirts.”

“Oh, my  _ god _ ,” Waverly whispers again.

Nedley pushes his glasses back up on his nose. “Dr. Katz was having a two-for-one sale,” he huffs. 

“Oh, my  _ god _ ,” Waverly repeats.

Nicole laughs and grabs Waverly by the hand again and tugs, pulling her into the front lobby.

“Good evening, ladies,” Jeremy says from behind the counter. Even though Nicole told him not to dress up, he’s wearing an ascot and a suit jacket. Dolls is leaning on his elbows next to Jeremy, smiling at them. Jeremy must have talked him into dressing up, too, because he’s got three polo shirts on, in neon colors, collars popped. He turns down Wham! and grins at them. “Any requests tonight, send them my way.”

Nicole glares at him over Waverly’s head, pulling her free hand across her throat.

His eyes widen.

“Oh, my  _ god _ ,” Waverly says a fourth time. She looks at Nicole, who drops her hand from her throat quickly. “ _ What  _ is happening here?”

Nicole turns and loops her arms around Waverly’s waist, pulling her close. “You won a  _ national _ award for being an  _ amazing _ teacher.” She leans in close, her nose bumping against Waverly’s. “You deserve something special.”

Waverly looks around. “This is… this is  _ so _ beyond that.”

Jeremy taps the counter to get their attention. “I think you have an agenda?” he suggests.

Nicole smiles at him. “Right. Games, and then skating.”

“I’ll be right here when you’re looking for skates,” Dolls says.

Nicole spins Waverly around in her arms, resting her chin on Waverly’s shoulder. “Think you can still beat me in Tetris?”

Waverly laughs and slips out of her arms, wagging her finger at Nicole. “You never beat me the first time.”

“You cheated,” Nicole reminds her.

“ _ Touching _ isn’t cheating.”

“It is when you’re doing it like  _ that _ ,” Nicole mutters under her breath.

Waverly pouts, exaggerating the push of her lower lip. “Boo hoo,” she says. She steps in closer, her hands sliding across Nicole’s waistline, slipping behind her belt. “Was it something like… this?”

“Get a room!” someone shouts.

Waverly’s cheeks flush as she turns. “Wynonna?”

“Hey, Loverboy,” Mercedes coos, wiggling her fingers.

Nicole groans. “Mercedes.”

“We’re not going to interrupt,” Wynonna says, throwing her arm across Mercedes’s shoulders. “We’re just here to have a good time.”

Nicole narrows her eyes.

“Yeah, get to your grossness,” Wynonna says, whispering something in Mercedes ear.

Mercedes rolls her eyes lets Wynonna pull her across the neon space-themed carpeting towards where Jeremy and Dolls are.

Nicole nudges Waverly forward, towards the token machine. Waverly reaches back and laces their hands together.

“Perry!” Waverly shouts. “Oh, my god!”

Perry hands them a plastic cup filled with tokens, her bills sitting on the top. “Shorty laughed when I tried to give him the money,” he says. “He gave me the key to the token machine instead.”

Nicole turns and finds Shorty behind the snack bar, talking to her mom. She catches his eye and smiles softly, nodding her thanks. He holds up a can of Orange Crush and tips it in her her direction. She pulls the bills off the top and shoves them into her back pocket. 

“All the tokens we want!” Waverly takes the cup from Nicole and holds it tightly to her chest. “This is the best night ever.”

Wynonna slips up behind Waverly and grabs the cup out of her hand. “Smell ya later!” she shouts as she zigs and zags around the machines. Waverly growls under her breath and takes after off Wynonna.

Nicole laughs and takes a deep breath. She runs a hand through her hair and tries to remember the plan.

“Games, then skating,” she says aloud.

“Here, honey,” her mom says, coming up behind her and sticking a cold can of Orange Crush in her hand. “You look like you need it.”

Nicole pops the tab and drinks half the can in one sip, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She passes the can back to her mom and nods.

“You got this, honey.”

“I got this,” she repeats, finding Wynonna and Waverly fighting over the tokens by the Knuckle Bash game. She gets to them just as Waverly growls and bends like she’s going to jump and tackle Wynonna to the round. 

Nicole smiles and grabs Waverly around the waist, lifting her into the air like she did that day outside of Mr. La Pierre’s house. Waverly goes limp and Nicole can see her stick her tongue out at Wynonna. Nicole drops Waverly in front of the Tetris machine and marches back across the arcade, grabbing a handful of tokens from the cup. 

Wynonna shrugs innocently. “You didn’t give  _ me _ a job. So I made one up.”

“What?” Nicole asks. “Screech, World’s Most Annoying Friend?”

Wynonna holds a hand over her chest, scandalized. “I’m  _ definitely  _ Lisa Tuttle.”

“You’re totally not,” Nicole mutters.

“ _ I’m _ Lisa Tuttle,” Mercedes interrupts. “And you’re Zach Morris,” she tells Nicole. “Except you’re not going to get your wedding in Las Vegas if you don’t go see your girlfriend.  _ Now _ ,” she adds.

Nicole rolls her eyes and moves back through the games. She hears Wynonna muttering behind her.

“But if you’re Lisa and Waverly is Kelly, that makes me…” Wynonna gasps. “I’m  _ not _ Jessie.”

Waverly is leaning against the Tetris machine, tapping her foot against the floor to George Michael singing, her shoulders moving to the beat. The neon from the arcade games frames her head, casting a halo as Wham! fades out and Van Halen comes on.

“Ready for me to show you how good I am at this game?” Nicole asks.

Waverly smiles quickly. “You can try.”

Nicole slides a token into the machine and grips the joysticks lightly. It’s been nearly eight years since she’s played this game, and she jerks the handle too hard on her first try, sending a Tetriminos into the wrong spot. Waverly laughs. Nicole glares at her and shakes out her shoulders, adjusting her stance.

Waverly laughs harder. “I’m going to say hi to your mom,” she announces. She leans in closer, flicking her tongue against Nicole’s ear lightly. “Try not to miss me.” She runs her hand along Nicole’s waistline, dropping her hand into Nicole’s back pocket for a second.

Nicole grips the joysticks tighter.

She stays there for the next five minutes, listening to “Love Walks In” slide into “Caught Up In You.” 

She can hear Wynonna and Mercedes cursing at each other and making shooting noises as they play Duck Hunt. She pushes up onto her toes; Doc is sitting behind the prize booth, his chin in his hand as he leans forward on his elbows, watching Wynonna with a goofy look on his face. She knows Chrissy is somewhere, probably sitting with Perry by the token machine, just out of sight behind a bank of Shorty’s older arcade games. She prays Chrissy remembered the ring.

_ I want to marry Waverly _ , she thinks. Her hands flex around the joysticks.  _ I want to marry Waverly. _

Waverly slides up next to her, holding a basket of fries. “You got Gus to make food,” she says, pointing a french fry at Nicole. “Even though Shorty’s  _ has _ a kitchen.”

Nicole shrugs and accepts the french fry Waverly presses to her lips. “You like Gus’s food.”

“And Gus is up there, behind the snack bar,” Waverly continues. She presses up on her tiptoes and kisses Nicole on the corner of the mouth. “You really did invite everyone,” she says softly. “For me?”

Nicole lets go of the joystick and loops her arms around Waverly’s waist, lacing her hands at the small of Waverly’s back. “I’d do a lot of things to you,” she breathes out.

“ _ For _ me,” Waverly says, eyes sparkling.

“That, too,” Nicole says, her cheeks flushing.

Waverly grins. “You’re, like,  _ the best _ .”

“At Tetris,” Nicole agrees. She lets go of Waverly, ignoring her huff of protest, and turns back to the machine. She grips the joysticks lightly, watching the first Tetriminos inch down the screen.

Waverly’s hand slides into her front pocket, but Nicole doesn’t flinch.

“Eighteen-year-old you would have just blown a gasket,” Waverly murmurs, her other hand going to Nicole’s arm.

Nicole grins crookedly, eyes still tracking the falling Tetriminos. “Eighteen-year-old me was  _ easy _ .”

Waverly snorts. “Yeah, you were.”

Nicole raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? That’s how you want to-”

Waverly’s hand squeezes Nicole’s arm, cutting her off. “Oh, it’s our song,” she breathes out.

“ _ Highway run, into the midnight sun. Wheels go round and round, you're on my mind. Restless hearts sleep alone tonight. Sending all my love along the wire _ ,” Steve Perry sings.

“ _ They say that the road ain't no place to start a family. Right down the line it's been you and me _ ,” Waverly sings along.

Nicole smiles softly.  _ This isn’t our song _ , she thinks.

“ _ And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be. Oh, girl, you stand by me. I'm forever yours, faithfully _ ,” Waverly continues.

Nicole leans in, kissing Waverly until her lungs ache. When she pulls back, Waverly’s eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed. Nicole smoothes her fingers across her jawline, trailing them down her neck.

“Do you know when the first time I wanted to kiss you, was?” she asks quietly.

Waverly shakes her head.

Nicole swallows heavily. “You were practicing for junior cheerleading. And you made the team and you came through the door at The Patch and Eddie Van Halen was singing about loving walking in and you... “ Nicole laughs. “You did. You walked in with your pom poms and your smile and the lights were in your hair and I…”

“You wanted to kiss me.”

“I wanted to kiss you,” Nicole repeats.

“I would have let you,” Waverly whispers.

Nicole’s heart clenches in her stomach. “Yeah?”

Waverly nods silently.

“Well,  _ shiz nits, _ ” Nicole breathes.

Waverly snorts softly. “So all of those football games you came to? They weren’t just to watch Samantha Baker kick her legs up into the air.”

“I was only ever watching you,” Nicole admits. “Though, when you looked at Champ, I can’t promise I didn’t sneak a peek at Perky Tits.”

Waverly groans and pulls away, swatting at her shoulder. “You…  _ hoser _ .”

“You love me,” Nicole says, laughing. 

“I don’t,” Waverly says, pouting.

“You do,” Nicole insists. “ _ Faithfully _ ,” she adds, singing along to Steve Perry.

“Let’s go play skeeball,” Waverly huffs, already walking towards the machine. She looks back over her shoulder and smiles at Nicole, taking the sting out of the words. “I bet you can’t beat your high score.”

Nicole scoffs. She once scored a 440 -  a near perfect game. Her hands are sweaty and she’s got her ear on the music, an eye on clock, waiting for the right moment to go skating.

There’s no way she’ll beat her high score tonight.

Waverly grabs the hem of her flannel and rubs it between her fingers, walking them up Nicole’s side and into her pockets, under her shirt, and across her stomach. Nicole shivers, but tries to ignore her.

She tests the weight of one of the balls in her hand and pulls back, firing it up the lane.

Waverly cheers when the ball teeters on the edge of the 40-point ring before falling in.

Nicole looks back over her shoulder and winks. “You like that?”

Wynonna skates past them and gags.

“Get bent,” Nicole shouts after her. She looks at Waverly again. “If you liked that, watch this.” She pulls her arm back as the song changes.

“ _ When a problem comes along, you must whip it! _ ”

The skeeball in her hand slips out, bouncing off the side of the lane and ricocheting backwards, nearly catching Waverly in the side as it rockets past her. Nicole stands up, eyes wide.

The ball skids along the arcade floor, bouncing against machines like a pinball.

“Who put this song on?” Nicole asks, looking around. She catches Jeremy’s eye and glares.

Waverly stands up, laughing. “Your face,” she pants.

“ _ Your _ face,” Nicole fires back. She immediately softens. “I mean-”

“I know you hate this song, but Jeremy said he was taking requests and I couldn’t resist,” Waverly says. She smoothes down her dress and laughs again, reaching for Nicole.

Nicole turns away slightly, but Waverly only laughs louder and reaches again, pulling Nicole close. “Warn me next time,” she mutters.

“Near-death experiences keep me on my toes,” Waverly says, trying hard to stop herself from laughing. She buries her face in Nicole’s arm, her body shaking as she keeps laughing. She lifts her head and inhales, long and slow, and nods. “Okay. Okay, I’m done.”

Nicole shakes Waverly off of her, huffing. She runs a hand through her hair. “You know what? Let’s go skate.”

“No, no,” Waverly says, pulling Nicole close again. “Win me a teddy bear,” she says. She pushes her bottom lip out. “Like the last time?”

Nicole fights a grin. She was  _ hoping _ Waverly would ask her that. She resists the urge to look at the prize booth, where Doc has a big, brown teddy bear with a red bow sitting on the shelf. “Turn  _ that _ off,” she says, pointing her finger at the speaker on the wall. “And we have a deal.”

“Or,” Waverly starts, the corner of her mouth curling up. “You just picture me practicing my cheer kicks to this song and move on.”

Nicole swallows. “I mean, yeah. I could, uh, do that.”

She stretches her neck one way, and then the other, rolling her shoulders back. She’s not eighteen anymore, and she hasn’t played skeeball in a while, but she still manages to score enough in five rounds that she has a solid stack of tickets in her hand. 

Not that the bear actually  _ costs _ tickets. She already paid for it.

The speakers buzz quietly for a minute as Jeremy puts her mixtape back in, “Waiting For A Girl Like You” cueing up.

_ A few songs to go _ , she thinks, running through the tracklist in her head.  _ Just this song, some Bon Jovi, Madonna, Phil Collins, and…  _

_ And  _ our _ song, _ she thinks, watching as Waverly sways to the music.

Nicole hands Waverly the tickets and grabs her other hand, pulling her through the maze of machines to the prize booth.

“Well, well. Someone had a fortuitous round of skeeball, I see," Doc says. Nicole groans whens she realizes he dressed up, too; he has a wing-tip white collared shirt under a tweed-looking waistcoast. He has his best hat on, too.

Waverly grins and leans on the counter. “You wouldn’t happen to have a bear, would you?”

Doc leans in in, dropping his voice to a loud whisper. “For you, darling? I just might.” He turns and grabs the bear off the shelf, wrestling it up and onto the counter.

Waverly turns and leans her hip against the counter, Doc invisible behind the giant bear. “I think this was the part where we went outside to put the bear in your car and we made out.” She walks her fingers up the cotton of Nicole’s undershirt. “And then you had to convince me to come back inside because  _ I _ wanted to just-”

Doc coughs loudly from behind the teddy bear. “Uh, ladies? Might I suggest-”

“Skating,” Nicole breathes out. Foreigner is already a minute in and Nicole can feel the back of her neck start to sweat. 

She made the playlist short - one side only. If it went on too long, she’d lose her nerve or she’d lose the ring or she’d lose her lunch. They’re already halfway through it, she still hasn’t gotten the ring from Chrissy, and they’re still not on skates.

Waverly pouts. “No making out by your car, then?”

Doc coughs loudly again.

Nicole swallows heavily and shakes her head reluctantly. “Skating,” she says firmly. She leans in a little closer. “And  _ then _ maybe some making out.”

Doc thumps his fist against the counter as he coughs a third time.

Waverly pushes the bear to one side. Doc’s cheeks are red.

“Do you need some water?” Waverly asks sweetly.

“No, ma’am,” Doc says, his voice hoarse.

“Do you mind holding onto this bear, then?” Waverly asks. “I’m going skating.” She leans over the counter, lowering her voice. “And then I’m going to make out with my girlfriend in her car.”

Doc chokes on his next breath, doubling over and pounding a hand against his chest.

Waverly winks at Nicole and grabs her hand, pulling her across the carpeted floor and back towards Jeremy and Dolls. Nicole lets Waverly pull her, looking back over her shoulder at Doc as he tries to wrestle the bear off the counter, his face still red. 

Dolls already has two sets of skates on the counter, waiting for them.

Waverly looks back at Nicole, but Nicole smiles. Waverly pulls a skate down and peers into it, checking the size. She snorts and puts it back on the counter.

Nicole frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the wrong size,” Waverly says.

Dolls sucks in his lips, fighting a laugh, and looks away.

“No, it’s not,” Nicole says.

Waverly nods. “It is.”

“It’s not.”

Waverly smiles and flattens her hand against Nicole’s stomach. “You can remember every line in every song you’ve ever heard. You can recall every time I’ve ever smiled at you. But you  _ never _ get my shoe size right.”

Nicole’s shoulders slump. “I don’t?”

Waverly pushes up on her toes and presses her mouth to the corner of Nicole’s. “No. But at least you remember my birthday.”

Dolls’s head snaps up. “It was one time,” he says defensively.

“And I’ll never let him live it down,” Jeremy chimes in.

Foreigner starts winding down and Nicole taps her foot anxiously. She grabs her skates off the counter. “Dolls, can you get her the right size, please?”

Dolls grumbles, but reaches for the right pair and hands them to Waverly. Nicole carefully unties her Red Wings and tucks the laces back inside the boot, pointedly ignoring Waverly snickering at her. She tucks them under a bench by the side of the skating rink. Waverly stays at the counter for a second longer, talking to Dolls and Jeremy.

Nicole wants to go over and do it right now. She wants to march across the room in her socks and get down on one knee and ask Waverly to spend the rest of her life making Nicole feel like a Van Halen song.

She’s about to get up and do it, no shoes and all, when Chrissy crashes into her, pressing a soft, velvet box into her hand.

Nicole feels her face flush; she was about to ask Waverly to marry her without a ring, in her socks.

“Need this,” Chrissy murmurs.

Nicole forces it into her pocket, hoping her flannel falls down over her pocket enough to cover the small shape the ring box makes.

Waverly comes up beside them, biting her lip. “Has it really been that long since you’ve been on skates?” she asks Chrissy. “I haven’t seen you run into anything that hard since the summer Nicole was mowing lawns and you walked into Gus’s front steps.”

Chrissy shrugs good naturedly. “Can you blame me?”

Waverly sighs and looks over at Nicole, smiling. “Not really.”

Nicole ducks her head and sits down on the bench she’s standing next to, the ring box digging into her stomach as she pulls on her skates. She laces them tightly and lets Waverly pull her up, twisting her hips so they don’t brush against Waverly’s. 

Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ On A Prayer” filters in through the speakers as Waverly pulls Nicole onto the hardwood, pushing off and gliding forward a few feet. She circles back, arms extended like a ballerina, and grins. Nicole pulls her shoulders and forces her hands into her pocket, her fingers closing over the box in her hand. 

“Do you remember when Curtis built that ice skating rink in the front yard?” Waverly asks.

Nicole groans. “Don’t remind me.”

“You wouldn’t skate on it.”

“Ice isn’t the same as a roller rink,” Nicole says firmly, jabbing her finger in Waverly’s direction.

Waverly puts her hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going to say it was!”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t,” Waverly insists. She’s smiling, though, like she’s lying. She makes a lazy, looping circle around Nicole, her hand grabbing at the fabric of Nicole’s flannel.

Nicole feels eighteen, skating into the corners to push Waverly up against the siding, just to kiss her. She grabs Waverly by the waist and backs her up towards the shadowy dip in the siding, careful to press her hips off-center. Waverly’s hand slides up her arm and into her hair, resting at the base of her neck. Nicole can feel her heart beating and her fingertips pulse as they slide across the cotton fabric of Waverly’s dress.

“I almost held your hand,” Waverly murmurs.

Nicole pulls back, her head fuzzy as the neon lights dance into the shadows and then across Waverly’s face. “What?”

“When Curtis built the ice rink on the front lawn,” Waverly says. “We were sitting on the steps and our hands were so close.”

“I wanted to hold your hand,” Nicole says, her eyes wide.

Waverly twists a strand of Nicole’s hair around her finger. “ _ I _ wanted to hold  _ your _ hand.”

Nicole reaches down and picks up Waverly’s free hand, holding it high between their bodies. She laces their fingers together, looking Waverly in the eye as she does. “And now we can,” she murmurs. She backs up slowly, pulling Waverly down off side of the rink and waiting until Nicole hears the  _ thud _ of her skate wheels hitting the wood before she starts skating backwards in smooth motions. 

Waverly rolls her eyes and skates after her.

_ “It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We've got each other and that's a lot for love.” _

“You never taught me how to skate backwards, you know,” Waverly says, leaning into her. Nicole reverses direction and moves forward, dipping behind Waverly, careful not to let the ring in her pocket brush against her. She settles on Waverly’s other side, shrugging a shoulder when Waverly gives her a funny look.

“I could teach you now,” Nicole offers. She pushes off, picking up a little bit of speed before turning and moving in reverse.

She gestures for Waverly to come closer. When Waverly is in arm’s reach, Nicole grabs for her and puts her hands back on Waverly’s waist. She slowly turns Waverly, curling her fingertips around Waverly’s hip bones.

“Pull your feet back together in a ‘V’,” she says in Waverly’s ear. “I’ll guide you.”

Waverly angles her feet in a ‘V’ shape and let’s Nicole pull her around in circles.

“ _ Take my hand, we’ll make it I swear _ ,” Waverly sings along. 

Over Waverly’s shoulder, Nicole can see people getting skates from the front counter. She snorts when she sees Jeremy dangling a pair of skates in Dolls’s face, obviously trying to convince him to put them on. 

Madonna’s “Open Your Heart” comes on and Rosita screams from somewhere by Pac-Man, her skates thudding against the carpet as she hurries towards the rink. Nicole lets go of Waverly quickly, trying to put enough distance between herself and Waverly before Rosita and Chrissy rush over.

Waverly laughs, the sound immediately swallowed up as Rosita crashes into her.

“It’s our girl!”

Chrissy slips onto the rink more gracefully, letting Rosita pull her into their circle. 

“That’s my cue,” Nicole says, winking at Waverly and getting off the rink, her skates heavy against the carpeted floor. She heads to the snack bar, her throat suddenly dry. 

One more song down, one more song closer to  _ their _ song. 

She leans heavily against the snack bar counter and reaches for another Orange Crush, draining the can in the time it takes Madonna to get through a chorus. 

“You know your pictures are going to go on the wall,” someone say behind her.

Nicole looks over her shoulder at Shorty. “What?”

“Local cop and school teacher get engaged in  _ my _ arcade?” Shorty laughs, a low sound from the pit of his stomach. “Those kids are going to love it.”

“Our pictures…” Nicole trails off, shaking her head. “That’s crazy.”

“I can almost see it now. ‘ _ Skate where Officer Haught and Ms. Earp got engaged’ _ ,” he says, framing his hands in the shape of a sign. “Almost like one of those, ‘drink where Tom Petty drank’ signs you find down in the States.”

Nicole laughs. “No one is going to care about that, Shorty.”

He shrugs. “We’ll see.”

Nicole looks back at the rink, finding Waverly quickly in the small crowd. She’s holding hands with Chrissy and Rosita, singing along to Madonna. Waverly spins in a circle and catches Nicole’s eyes, waving. Rosita crashes into her again, spinning them around.

“Thanks, again,” she says. “For letting us use the space. And, you know.”

Shorty smiles softly, shaking his head. “No skin off my nose, kid. And besides, Curtis would have  _ loved _ this.”

Nicole looks up. “Really?”

Shorty snorts. “A grand ol’ gesture, complete with its own soundtrack? He would have helped you plan it.”

Something swells in Nicole’s chest, a warmth spreading through her body. The nervousness is gone now. Her hands stop shaking and sweating. Her lungs stop burning. The ring in her pocket suddenly feels weightless.

“I want to marry Waverly,” she says quietly. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

She watches Waverly sway as she skates across the wooden surface, her hands above her head and her eyes closed. Her dress keeps catching the neon lights and Nicole is almost positive she’s never seen anything else like it in her life.

It’s what every  _ good _ song looks like, all rolled into one.

Nicole looks around the rest of Shorty’s, taking everything in. Wynonna has Doc pulled across the prize counter and they’re making out, his hat on the floor, while Mercedes inspects her nails lazily next to them. Dolls and Jeremy are pressed into one corner of the front counter, sharing a basket of fries and a cup of soda with two straws. Her mom and Gus are sitting at the other end of the snack bar counter, talking and laughing about something Nicole can’t hear. Perry is standing with Nedley, the two of them looking rigid and uncomfortably, even from here. Styx licks at Perry’s palm and he cracks a small smile, shrugging at Nedley. Nedley nods and Perry smiles a little wider. She spots Nathan’s shoes before she sees the rest of him, stretched out on the floor as he plays peek-a-boo with Hayley. Hayley giggles and falls over, Nathan’s hands cradling her before she hits the ground. 

She agrees with Shorty; Curtis would have  _ loved _ this.

The opening drums of Phil Collins’s “In The Air Tonight” start and Wynonna pulls away from Doc. 

“Really?” she shouts at Nicole. “ _ This _ song?”

Waverly screams happily, skating up to the edge of the rink. “Baby, it’s your song!”

Nicole grins and shrugs a shoulder at Wynonna. “Really.”

She pushes off across the floor, and “In The Air Tonight” blows into her eardrums as they skate past the speaker setup. 

“Oh!” Nicole breaks free, skating hard a few feet and then looking back at Waverly over her shoulder as she bangs out the drum solo in mid-air.

Waverly throws her head back and laughs.

Nicole keeps going, reaching again for Waverly’s hand as they weave through the skaters, doing her best Phil Collins impression. Waverly keeps laughing, her hair lit up by the sparkling lights.

Wynonna skates past her, kneeling as she plays an air guitar. Chrissy and Rosita come up on either side of Waverly, hooking their arms through hers and pulling her away across the rink.

“So, you have a speech?” Wynonna asks, skating in lazy circles around her. 

Nicole shakes her head wordlessly.

Wynonna’s mouth falls open. “ _ What _ ?”

Nicole can’t believe it either. She spent hours the other day, while Waverly worked late, sitting on the couch with a blank notepad in her lap and a pen in her hand. She had played drum solos along to Rick Springfield’s entire  _ Tao _ cassette, but nothing felt right. She started and stopped a hundred different sentences, all of them worse than the one before. She rifled through the box under their bed, the one where Waverly kept the important things; under her birth certificate and the mixtape Waverly made her, she found the folded-up notebook paper.

She reread what she wrote in 1989 and cringed with each line. Eighteen-year-old Nicole was not a Wordman and she hasn’t gotten any better at it since. 

So she decides to wing it.

She knows they’re almost out of time, so she breaks away from Wynonna and skates up behind Waverly, grabbing her by the waist and nudging her towards the side of the rink, where her mom, Gus, Nedley, Shorty, Doc, Jeremy, Dolls, Nathan, Mercedes, and Hayley are all waiting, talking softly with their eyes on the rink.

She feels Chrissy, Rosita, Wynonna, and Perry slide into the siding around her, leaning against the boards, waiting for her cue.

Nicole takes a deep breath as “In The Air Tonight” finishes. She intentionally recorded ten seconds of silence; ten seconds to get herself together, take a deep breath, and ask.

_ I want to marry Waverly _ , she thinks. 

Waverly looks up, frowning at the dead air, then at everyone lined up along the rinkside. “Is the tape over?”

Nicole shakes her head. “N-No,” she manages.

The opening piano comes on and catches Nicole off-guard. One leg slides forward, but she straightens up and holds steady.

Waverly frowns at her. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes narrow. “I saw chili dogs up there. Did you eat one of them?” She puts her hands on her hip.

Nicole feels her face flush as Wynonna snorts behind her. “No,” she hisses. She smoothes a hand down the front of her shirt.

“ _ In my life I see where I've been. I said that I'd never fall again _ .”

She reaches for Waverly’s hand, her palm sliding against Waverly’s. She turns it over, lacing their fingers together and smiling softly. “They fit.”

Waverly looks down at their hands. “What?”

Nicole looks up, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “Our hands. They fit,” she repeats. She clears her throat. “We, uh. We fit.”

_ “Within myself I was wrong; my searchin' ain't over...over. I know that… _ ”

Nicole turns in a half-circle, until the only person she can see if Waverly, backlit by bright blue and pink.

“Neon lights,” she breathes out. 

Waverly frowns at her. “What?”

Nicole takes a deep breath and smiles, her stomach a tight, coiled knot. “You’re like neon lights, did you know that?”

“I’m…  _ what _ ?”

“ _ When you love a woman, you see your world inside her eyes. When you love a woman, you know she's standin' by your side _ .”

“I love neon lights,” Nicole says. “I love the way they hiss. It’s like, each light has its own sound. It’s own song.”

Waverly’s face softens. “That’s actually the electricity inside the fluorescent-”

Nicole shakes her head.

“ _ A joy that lasts forever. There's a band of gold that shines waiting somewhere...oh yeah… _ ”

“You make me feel like ‘Love Walks In’ and ‘Love of a Lifetime’ and ‘Faithfully,’ and I know you think I’m crazy when I go on and on about how every song  _ means _ something, but... “ Nicole inhales deeply. “Every song has its own neon light attached to it. And every moment of our lives, together, has its own neon light.”

Waverly squeezes her hand softly. “Baby, I’m not sure-”

Nicole takes a deep breath. “The day I knew I loved you, that first day, you walked into The Patch and the big, neon tomato was lit up right behind you. Your bathing suit, that summer I mowed lawns, looked like the same lights here. Our first date?” She feels her heart fluttering rapidly in her chest. “On our first date, the neon lights were  _ everywhere _ .” 

Waverly frowns. “My bathing suit-”

“I told you that I’d find our song,” she says over Waverly.

“ _ If I can't believe that someone is true, to fall in love is so hard to do. I hope and pray tonight somewhere you're thinkin' of me, girl. Yes I know...I know that… _ ”

“I told you that we hadn’t found it yet, and this is  _ finally  _ it,” Nicole continues. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized we don’t have  _ one _ song. We have  _ hundreds _ ,” she breathes out. “And not all of them have a synthesizer in them, you know? We have the sound of the jukebox changing tapes and the motor on the Snapper starting. We have dancing in the kitchen to the staticky radio and the sound of Curtis’s truck pulling up the driveway. And… and th-the neon lights. We have those,” she says, rushing to get all of her thoughts out before she ralphs on Shorty’s floor. 

“ _ When you love a woman, you see your world inside her eyes. When you love a woman, you know she's standin' by your side. A joy that lasts forever.” _

Waverly shakes her head slowly. “Baby-”

She knows she’s not explaining this the right way. She knows she’s a mess, all over the place. She knows that words are pouring out of her mouth too quickly for her to stop them, crowding each other as she tries to explain to Waverly that every moment with her feels like the best moment of her life. 

_ “There's a band of gold that shines waiting somewhere...oh yeah… _ ”

“I know I’m not explaining this the right way,” Nicole admits. “I know it’s not a hundred red roses and Bonnie Tyler singing, like you wanted,” she says, thinking about Waverly’s one-time proposal fantasy when they were teenagers. She shakes her head. “I know it doesn’t make any sense.”

“ _ It's enough to make you cry when you see her walkin' by, and you look into her eyes… _ ”

“It’s an arcade and Journey, but it’s  _ our _ song,” Nicole says fiercely. “I heard this song, and I knew it was  _ our _ song. It feels like that quiet moment when you turn on a neon light, just when the hum starts and builds in your chest, you know?”

Waverly looks at her helplessly.

“I’ve loved you for twelve years,” Nicole says. “I’ve heard thousands of songs that sound like you. And we’ve both tried other people, other lives, and we kept coming back to each other. I went to the academy, you went to college. We still came back, because this is our home.  _ You’re _ my home. We went out and did the things we wanted to do, and we’re becoming the people we want to be. But I’ve  _ always _ followed every neon light back to you.”

“ _ When you love a woman, you see your world inside her eyes. When you love a woman, you know she's standin' by your side. A joy that lasts forever. There's a band of gold that shines waiting somewhere...oh yeah… _ ”

“Baby,” Waverly breathes out., her eyes widening.

“ _ When you love a woman, you see your world inside her eyes… _ ”

“You make me feel like my whole life is lit up with neon lights,” Nicole whispers. “And I never, ever want to live in a world without them.” She swallows heavily, feeling a lump in her throat. Her hand shakes as she lets go of one of Waverly’s, reaching into her pocket.

“ _ Oh, shiz nits _ ,” she hears Wynonna whisper.

Nicole’s skate kicks out as she lowers herself, kneeling on the hard wooden floor. She steadies herself with the rubber stopper and looks up at Waverly. She pulls back the top of the ring box. “Waverly Earp, will you marry me?”

Waverly inhales sharply, eyes darting down to the sapphire ring nestled in the black velvet box in Nicole’s hand. “Nicole…”

“I’ve been waiting to ask you this question for twelve years,” she admits.

Waverly sucks in her lips, her eyes glassy in the lights swinging above them. “ _ I’ve  _ been waiting for you to ask this question,” she breathes out.

“So say yes,” she whispers.

Waverly claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my god,” she says, dropping her hand again. “Oh, my god,  _ yes _ .”

Nicole stands up, her hands shaking as she carefully pulls the sapphire ring out of the box. She lets the box drop somewhere in the darkness as she takes Waverly’s left hand and slides the ring onto her third finger.

The neon light swings around them, catching the sapphire and lighting it up.

Nicole knows everyone is cheering around them, stomping their feet and banging their hands on the side of the rink. She knows there are things going on behind her: Jeremy has put on Kool & The Gang’s “Celebration,” and even Nedley is wiping at something on his face, Styx licking his palm reassuringly. Chrissy and Rosita are shouting excitedly, already talking about bridesmaid dress shopping in the city. Wynonna, Doc, Dolls, Perry, and Nathan are drumming the beat to “We Are The Champions” while Mercedes rocks Hayley and coos about being a flower girl. Gus is holding her mom’s hand and they’re crying, leaning into each other while Shorty takes Polaroid after Polaroid. 

Nicole doesn’t hear it; she doesn’t see them. Waverly is still standing in front of her, eyes red around the edges as she stares down at her hand, her mouth just slightly open.

“Oh, my god,” she says again. 

Nicole ducks her head, trying to catch Waverly’s eye. “A good ‘oh, my god’?” she asks hopefully.

Waverly’s head snaps up. “ _ Yes _ ,” she breathes out. “Yes, the best kind.” She shakes her head. “You recreated our whole first date, just to ask me to marry you.”

“ _ Just _ ?” Nicole repeats. She snorts and pulls Waverly closer, hooking a finger under her chin and tipping her head back.

“It must have taken a lot of work,” Waverly says, her eyes darting to Nicole’s mouth.

“Baby, you have  _ no _ idea,” Nicole murmurs, eyes fluttering as she leans in to kiss Waverly.

Doc clears his throat loudly and Waverly huffs against Nicole’s lips.

“Honestly, Doc, when you did  _ you _ become such a-”

He lifts an eyebrow at her, holding out two sweating cans of Orange Crush. “Your sister is proposing a toast, of sorts.”

Waverly’s face flushes. “Oh.”

“I, for one, am  _ not _ a prude,” he continues. “I simply-”

“You’re an old man,” Wynonna cuts in. She elbows him out of the way, throwing her arm over Nicole’s shoulder. “Okay, listen here. We - and I mean, all of us… except for Nedley, who claims he isn’t a betting man - have been waiting on this a long time. We’ve reshuffled the over-under and lots of us gave up on putting down a few bucks. Including Waverly.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Nicole says, looking at Waverly.

Waverly nods, her cheeks still red.

“But  _ I _ never stopped betting,” Wynonna continues. “Mostly because I’m not the kind who backs down from a chance to win some free money. But also” She shrugs a shoulder, her eyes and voice softer. “But also because I knew they’d get there when they were ready. And thank god they got there while I’m still bangin’, because this is going to be one hell of a well-dressed wedding party!”

Chrissy and Rosita cheer. 

Wynonna raises her hand into the air. “We don’t have champagne, but we have Orange Crush.”

“It’s  _ better _ ,” Nicole murmurs.

Waverly elbows her gently.

“So, a toast,” Wynonna continues. “To my best friend. I might not be able to take back punching you in the face,” she says. “But I’m glad you stuck around afterwards. For me, and…” She shrugs. “And for my sister. You’re the only person we’ve ever fought over, and… well… I love you, you bohunk.” She tips the can of Crush at Nicole, blinking hard to clear her eyes. “Holy  _ tits _ . Can someone change the music?”

Jeremy rushes to the counter, fumbling with the tape for a minute before Kool cuts out. He slides another one in and Nicole grins as the song starts. She leans back against the side of the rink, Waverly curled into her side, as Wynonna shows Jeremy how to do the Y.M.C.A.

“Not a  _ word _ ,” Wynonna hisses at Nicole as she skates by.

They skate for a few more songs until Waverly rockets off the rink and into the benches, showing Nicole’s mom and Gus her ring. Nicole lets Wynonna tug her around in circles, but Waverly keeps looking over at her with a smile on her face and the neon lights woven into the strings of her hair.

“I gotta go,” she murmurs.

Wynonna follows her, toeing off her skates and curling up next to Doc. Nicole takes her time untying her skates and putting her Red Wings back on. When she stands up, Waverly is next to her, tracing circles on her side through the flannel she’s wearing.

Waverly presses up on her socked feet, her breath hot against Nicole’s ear and her hand warm against Nicole’s chest, the ring on her left hand glittering in the fluorescent lights above the snack bar. “Want to get out of here?”

Nicole swallows heavily and nods. She clears her throat. “We’re, uh…” She swallows again. “We’re probably going to call it a night,” she says loudly. “Big day, and all.”

Waverly fakes a yawn and nods. “Totally.” She hooks her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m gonna grab my coat and then we’ll get out of here.”

“I’m keeping Styx for the night,” Gus reminds them. Nicole pretends not to hear Nedley’s huff of protest.

Wynonna snorts, stretching her legs and dropping her feet in Doc’s lap. “ _ Please _ . You’re totally going to bone.”

Nicole knocks Wynonna’s feet out of Doc’s lap as she walks by her. “Knock it off,” she mutters.

Waverly slides up next to her, her boots in one hand and her other finding Nicole’s easily. “Well, we’ll see everyone tomorrow.”

“Breakfast at The Patch!” Jeremy declares. Rosita and Chrissy look at each other and shrug, nodding. Nathan and Mercedes chime in that they’ll be there. Doc tips his hat.

“Breakfast at The Patch,” Nicole agrees. “Sounds like a plan.” Waverly tugs discreetly at her hand. “Goodnight.” She pauses, eyes scanning everyone’s faces slowly, trying to explain to them how important they all are; how happy she was to have them here; how they’re all  _ family _ .

Waverly tugs again and Nicole fights a smile.

“Come  _ on _ ,” Waverly mutters out of the corner of her mouth. She smiles brightly at everyone again and starts towards the door, Nicole trailing behind her.

“They’re totally going to bone,” Wynonna stage-whispers.

Nicole flips her off as Waverly pulls her out the door.

 

-

For a second, in the car, when Waverly leans over and whispers in her ear, Nicole wonders if she went back in time.

“Do you… Do you want to get out of here?” Waverly asks, her voice a ragged whisper.

Nicole’s hand slides off the steering wheel for a moment before her fingers catch on the bottom of it. She nods as she puts her Bonneville into reverse, backing out of Shorty’s parking lot. Waverly’s hand slides across her knee, curling around the inside curve. They drive along Main Street, Nicole pointing her car towards the edge of town without thinking about it.

“You have any new cassettes?” Waverly asks, her eyes sparkling. They drive under a streetlight and Nicole looks over, rolling her eyes at the way Waverly is smirking back at her.

“I have Def Leppard?” Nicole offers.

Waverly laughs. “Of course you do,” she says, sliding along the bench seat and opening the glove compartment anyway. “When’s the last time you  _ didn’t _ have Def Leppard in here?”

Nicole tips her head to the side, thinking about it. “Well… I’m not sure.”

Waverly laughs, the noise dying as she pops  _ Asia _ out of the deck and replaces it. The  _ Hysteria _ tape slides in, but Waverly doesn’t put it in all the way yet. “Wait. You  _ have _ taken it out of the car before, right?”

“Maybe?” Nicole says slowly. 

“Have you  _ never _ taken this tape out of the car?”

Nicole flexes her hand on the wheel. “What if we’re driving somewhere someday and you want to pull over and…  _ you know _ ,” Nicole says defensively. “We need a soundtrack.”

Waverly laughs, gripping Nicole’s arm as she doubles over. She pushes  _ Hysteria _ into the deck and laughs harder when “Women” comes on.

Nicole glares at Waverly for a moment before she cracks a smile. “Whatever,” she grumbles.

“Oh, baby,” Waverly coos, kissing her cheek softly. “I’m just teasing.”

“No you’re not,” Nicole says.

Waverly laughs again. “No, I’m not.”

“But you like that we have a makeout tape,” Nicole continues, turning off Rt. 81.

Waverly’s laugh fades softly. Her hand slides over Nicole’s leg, resting high on her thigh. “I like that we have a makeout tape,” she whispers.

Nicole turns her high beams on, finding the turnoff for Lover’s Lane easily in the extra light. Her car bounces over the dirt road, Waverly pressing closer to her as they hit a hole that makes Nicole wince. She slows the car down, murmuring apologies to it and ignoring Waverly snickering at her. She puts the car in park at the far end of the ledge, just as “Women” ends and “Rocket” starts.

She turns the car off and leaves the running lights on so the tape still plays.

Waverly twists in the front seat, tucking one leg under her body. She reaches out, twisting a strand of Nicole’s hair around her finger and letting it slide off slowly. “You proposed,” she breathes out.

Nicole smiles softly. “I proposed.” She hesitates. “Is that okay?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” she says, smacking the back of her fingers against Nicole’s arm. “Took you long enough,” she mumbles.

Nicole pushes forward on the bench seat, her foot catching on the pedals before she frees it and closes the distance between them. “I’m-”

Waverly shushes her, a finger on Nicole’s lips. “Don’t, baby. I’m only half-teasing.” She rests her hand against Nicole’s cheek, her ring cool against Nicole’s face. “We got  _ engaged _ ,” she murmurs.

Nicole grins and leans in, kissing Waverly softly. Waverly’s hand slides to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, breathing a little harder as she kisses her again and again. Nicole’s hands shake as she rests them on Waverly’s waist, the whole night catching up to her and leaving her chest aching.

“Backseat?” Waverly asks, already pulling Nicole further over towards the passenger side of the car.

Nicole nods, breathless, reaching back to find the lever that makes the seat go down. It folds in on itself, and Nicole untangles from Waverly, scrambling over the seat and into the back. Waverly climbs in after her, a socked foot landing hard on Nicole’s foot. She ignores the bloom of pain that spreads through her leg and slides her hands around Waverly’s waist, pulling until Waverly is sitting in her lap, knees bracketing Nicole’s hips. 

She looks up for a moment, and any breath she got back rushes out of her lungs as she looks up at Waverly. The sky is clear and there’s just enough light coming in through the back window, splashing across Waverly’s face. Her hair is falling down over her shoulders and Nicole can see her ring on her finger, resting on Nicole’s shoulder.

She flexes her hands on Waverly’s waist at the same time as Waverly leans in, their mouths brushing. She felt eighteen earlier, but nothing about this feels eighteen now. She’s sure of herself; of her hands as they slide around Waverly’s waist and up her back. She’s sure of the way Waverly’s hips cant towards her own. She’s sure of the way Waverly’s hands slide into her hair and the way her fingernails dig into her scalp. 

“Rocket” fades into “Animal” and Waverly pauses, leaning away from her for a moment.

“What?”

Waverly shakes her head and twists, reaching over the front seat and pressing the fast-forward button on the deck.

Nicole leans to one side and looks over her shoulder. “What’re you doing?”

“I like side B better,” Waverly says, shrugging. She leans back in, her hands ghosting along Nicole’s jaw as she angles Nicole’s face up and kisses her. The tape runs and runs and for a moment, Nicole can’t separate it from the way the blood is roaring in her ears. Every part of her is starting to smoke like the end of a cigarette before it catches, and she’s just a few clicks of Waverly’s fingers away from igniting. 

The tape  _ snaps _ in the deck and Waverly breaks the kiss, turning it over and pushing it back in, pressing the play button. “Gods of War” starts, the synthesizers slow and easy. Waverly turns back to face her, hands sliding across her face and around her neck. 

“There,” Waverly murmurs. 

Kissing Waverly always feels like the first time, her brain racing to keep up and her hands already knowing what to do. Sometimes, she feels the press a moth-smelling closet against her back and Waverly’s fishnet stockings under her hand. Sometimes, she can hear “Just Like Heaven” and Robin Zander pleading “ _ show me, show me, show me how you do that trick _ .”

But the way Waverly rolls her hips forward, the cotton of her dress rubbing against where Nicole’s white shirt has ridden up just above her belt is nothing like the way Waverly moved in that closet in Stephanie Jones’s basement. There’s no hesitation now, no rush. Waverly moves like she has all the time in the world to be with Nicole, in this car, listening to this tape.

_ We have the rest of our lives _ , Nicole thinks. 

Waverly’s fingertips graze Nicole’s neck as her hands move to Nicole’s collar, peeling the flannel back enough to lean down and press her mouth to the skin beneath it. Nicole is worried Waverly will hear her pulse as it races, but Waverly only pushes her body closer.

“Not above my uniform collar,” Nicole murmurs.

Waverly huffs against her neck and Nicole shivers. “But we got  _ engaged _ .”

“But I still have to go to work,” Nicole points out. She smiles, rubbing her thumbs in small circle against Waverly’s back.

Waverly tugs on Nicole’s flannel. “So take this off.” She moves back on Nicole’s lap, leaning back against the front bench seat to give Nicole room. She gets impatient when Nicole takes her time and grabs one sleeve, pulling until Nicole’s arm slides out. 

“Hey,” Nicole protests. 

Waverly balls it up and tosses it on the floor.

“ _ Hey,” _ Nicole repeats.

Waverly grins at her and moves in again as “Don’t Shoot Shotgun” starts. “Let me make it up to you,” Waverly breathes out. Her hands slip under Nicole’s white shirt and crawl across her bare skin.

Nicole works her hands up and under Waverly’s dress, her palms sliding against the silky fabric of her tights. She bunches the hem of Waverly’s dress in her fist and tugs, getting Waverly’s attention. “Can you take this off?”

Waverly reaches down and gathers the bottom of the dress, pulling it up and over her head. It catches on her arms and she twists uselessly, trying to tug it off. “Uh, I’m stuck…”

Nicole chuckles softly. “Oh, yeah, let me help you.” She runs her hands up Waverly’s arms. “I got you,” she murmurs, easing the dress off Waverly’s arms.

Waverly pushes her hair out of her eyes, her cheeks flushed. “I used to be able to do that.”

“You did it.”

“And look  _ sexy _ ,” Waverly continues.

“You are,” Nicole reassures her. She stretches up, kissing along Waverly’s neck and down to her collarbone. “You  _ are _ .”

Waverly tips her head back and Nicole lets her mouth map a path from one of Waverly’s ears to the other, finding her chin and her shoulder and the spot just below her jawline that has Waverly twitching in her lap on the way. 

“Tights,” Nicole mumbles.

Waverly shakes her head. “In a minute. I just need to…” She holds Nicole’s face in her hands. “I need to kiss you.” 

Waverly tastes like Orange Crush and french fries and the rest of Nicole’s life. Her tongue slides into Nicole’s mouth briefly, dipping in and out and leaving Nicole breathless. It burns a line up her jawbone as Waverly kisses her.

“Lay back,” Waverly says, her voice hoarse.

“God,” Nicole groans. “When’s the last time we had sex in a car?”

Waverly lifts her head and misjudges the distance, hitting it on the ceiling. She hisses, rubbing at the spot. “Uh, prom night?”

Nicole laughs. She reaches up and rubs at the spot for Waverly, smiling softly. She lets herself lean back a little more, and the back of her head hits the side of the car. “Shit.”

Waverly laughs, leaning back down over Nicole and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, her hair hanging down in Nicole’s face. Nicole reaches up, winding some strands around her fingers and tugging gently until Waverly’s lips are pressed against hers. 

“Run Riot” comes on, and Nicole pulls Waverly a little closer. Her hand snakes along Waverly’s bare shoulder and over the lace of her bra. She fumbles with the clasp for a minute before it comes apart.

_ “Livin' by the rules is somethin' that you gotta do. But does it matter if we break a rule or two?” _

She brushes her thumb over Waverly’s nipple. Waverly’s breath catches and her body jerks, her hips pressing down into Nicole’s. She remembers the first time she touched Waverly like this, in the dining room of The Patch after closing, with “Caught Up In You” on the jukebox and Waverly pressed against it. She remembers being in her bedroom with nothing playing on the stereo and no one home, Waverly’s hands like lightning on her skin.

“You okay?” she asks, her thumb moving purposefully across Waverly’s breast.

“ _ Aces _ ,” Waverly pants. She drops her hand over Nicole’s, keeping it steady. Her hips press up and down, her arms shaking as she tries to hold herself up. 

Nicole sits up a little, creating enough space between their bodies to reach down and pull her white undershirt up and over her head.

Waverly exhales slowly. “Aces,” she repeats.

“Yeah, yeah,  _ clutch _ ,” Nicole says, rolling her eyes. “If you’re done being a  _ total _ hoser, then can-”

Waverly pushes at Nicole’s shoulder. “Can it,” she murmurs, kissing down Nicole’s collarbone. She follows the line of Nicole’s sports bra, her fingers curling around the strap and peeling it down the curve of Nicole’s shoulder. It catches around her middle as Waverly pushes it down. Her tongue swirls around Nicole’s skin, painting patterns that Nicole can’t follow. 

“ _ Pedal to the metal, senses working overtime. _ ”

The air feels damp, and Nicole tips her head back, glancing up and trying to catch her breath. Waverly nips at the curve of her neck. The windows are fogging over as Wavelry dips her head again, one hand going to Nicole’s belt buckle.

When “Hysteria” comes on, Nicole’s hips jump.

Waverly breaks the kiss and pulls back, lifting an eyebrow. “Well,  _ that _ -”

“Don’t,” Nicole warns. She shakes her head and pulls Waverly back in, kissing her harder. 

_ I was so scared you would say no _ , she tries to say.

_ I’m still afraid you’re going to change your mind _ , she tries to hold in.

Waverly pauses, though, one hand on Nicole’s face, and seems to know. She lifts up, hovering over Nicole, eyes searching Nicole’s face.

“I love you,” she says.

Nicole swallows heavily, nodding. “I love you, too.”

Waverly sits up, her eyes dark and clouded. She stretches a leg out and wiggles around, getting her tights down to her boots. She growls softly when she realizes she can’t get them off over her boots. Nicole sits up a little, reaching her hand down blindly and finding Waverly’s calf. She slides her hand down to the top of Waverly’s boot and slowly inches the zipper down until Waverly can kick her boot off and peel her tights over her foot. She pushes the fabric down her other leg and leaves it there, leaning back over Nicole.

Waverly pauses, her chest rising and falling, her eyes searching Nicole’s face.

“I got you,” Nicole promises.

Nicole props herself up on one elbow, the other hand on Waverly’s waist to hold her steady. Waverly braces a hand on the window behind Nicole, her palm making a noise as it slides down the glass. Her hair is hanging down, covering her face, and Nicole wants to reach up, wants to push it out of the way so she can see Waverly’s face as she works her hand between their bodies, letting Waverly adjust.

Waverly nods, the motion uneven as her lips part. Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip briefly. 

Nicole feels like she’s eighteen  _ now _ , still too clumsy, too rough to be touching Waverly. She lets Waverly set the pace, her hand flexing against Waverly’s hip as she rocks forward, moving to the music. Each jerk of her body matches Phil Collen picking each note, building up like the chorus of the song before it comes crashing down.

Waverly’s body tenses, a taut line above Nicole. Her hand tightens painfully around Nicole’s shoulder, and then she lets go, her head tossed back and her eyes squeezed tight. Her elbow buckles slightly and she drops, her stomach flat against Nicole’s.

“I got you,” Nicole says again, whispering the words against Waverly’s neck.

Waverly nods, her body still tense for a moment before she exhales. She sinks down onto Nicole, her forehead sticking to Nicole’s skin. Her hand slips down Nicole’s side and back to Nicole’s belt buckle, clumsily trying to undo it. 

“Take your time,” Nicole says, brushing Waverly’s hair back behind her ear. “You don’t have to-  _ oh _ .”

Waverly’s hand is hot against her, sliding past Nicole’s belt and waistband, the tips of her fingers pressing down softly. She feels out of touch and out of reach and spiraling out of control. She knows she won’t last long, Waverly’s chest against hers and Waverly breathing in her ear. 

Waverly’s fingers work in agonizingly slow circles. Nicole tries to remember to breathe as her other hand trails along her stomach and up her chest. She feels her body burning up, a knot in the pit of her stomach tightening with each minute movement of Waverly’s hand. It builds like the rise of a piano riff, like a synthesizer ringing through the static of a tape player, and then...

And then…

_ Neon lights _ .

When she blinks again, her throat is dry and Waverly is tracing shapes on her stomach, just above her belt buckle. It takes her a minute to realize Waverly is drawing a heart around the ‘WH’ she traced there. She’s humming something softly, and Nicole doesn’t catch it at first. But the more she comes back down and the world filters in, the more the tune makes sense.

“Are you humming  ‘Feels Like The First Time’ right now?” 

Waverly grins and kisses Nicole’s bare shoulder. “Maybe.”

Nicole groans. “That’s so-”

“It’s  _ your _ fault,” Waverly says defensively. “Recreating our first date?” She starts tracing lines and edges that don’t make sense. “You got me thinking about the first time we did this.”

“Had sex in my car?”

“Made love,” Waverly corrects, the tips of her ears red. “I know I said that night was the best night of my life, but I think…” She breathes in. “I think  _ this _ is the best night of my life.”

Nicole feels her cheeks burn. “Even if we had sex in the car when we have a perfectly good bed at home?”

Waverly smiles softly, trailing her finger up Nicole’s chest and along her jawline, tucking a strand of hair behind Nicole’s ear. “Even then.”

“Okay,” Nicole whispers.

Waverly pulls Nicole’s flannel off the floor, sliding her arms into it and leaving it unbuttoned. She nudges Nicole back until she’s stretched out across the backseat, and then she lays down, curling into her side. 

“Did you think we would ever be here?” Waverly asks, her whisper echoing against the soft fabric top above them. She rubs a finger over the sapphire on her ring. “ _ Engaged _ .”

Nicole hums along softly to “Love and Affection” as Joe Elliott sings, “ _ we got the night baby, we got the dream, oh imagine it _ .” She shakes her head softly and runs a finger down the length of Waverly’s spine.

Nicole didn’t  _ think _ , but she  _ hoped _ .


End file.
